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The Story of a Cannoneer 
Under Stonewall Jackson 



IN WHICH IS TOLD THE PART TAKEN BY THE 

ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY IN THE ARMY 

OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA 



BY 

EDWARD A. MOORE 

Of the Rockbridge Artillery 



WITH INTRODUCTIONS BY 

CAPT. ROBERT E. LEE, JR., and HON. HENRY 
ST. GEORGE TUCKER 



Fully Illustrated by Portraits 



NEW YORK AND WASHINGTON 

THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
1907 






Copyright, 1907, by 
E. A. MOORE 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER UNDER 
STONEWALL JACKSON 



'-: 




General "Stoneware" Jackson 



I-KONlISPIECli 



To My Comkades 

OF THE 

ROCKBKIDGE AETILLERY 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction by Capt. Robert E. Lee, Jr 13 

Introduction by Henry St. George Tucker 15 

I — Washington College — Lexington — Virginia Military 

Institute 19 

II — Entering the Service — My First Battle — Battle of 

Kernstown 25 

III— The Retreat— Cedar Creek— General Ashby— Skir- 
mishes — McGaheysville 34 

IV — Swift Run Gap — Reorganization of the Battery — 
Wading in the Mud — Crossing and Recrossing the 
Blue Ridge — Battle of McDowell — Return to the 

Valley 43 

V — Bridgewater — Luray Valley — Front Royal — Follow- 
ing General Banks — Night March — Battle of 

Winchester — Banks's Retreat 52 

VI — Capturing Federal Cavalry — Charlestown — Extraor- 
dinary March 60 

VII — General Jackson Narrowly Escapes Being Captured 
at Port Republic — Contest Between Confederates 

and Federals for Bridge over Shenandoah 66 

VIII— Battle of Port Republic 72 

IX — From Brown's Gap to Staunton — From Staunton 
to Richmond — Cold Harbor — General Lee Visits 

His Son in the Battery 77 

X — General Jackson Compliments the Battery — Mal- 
vern Hill — My Visit to Richmond 86 

XI — From Richmond to Gordonsville — Battle of Cedar 
Run — Death of General Winder — Deserters Shot 

— Cross the Rappahannock 93 

7 



8 CONTENTS 

PAGE 

XII — Capture of Railroad Trains at Manassas Junction 
— Battle with Taylor's New Jersey Brigade — 
Night March by Light of Burning Cars 102 

XIII — Circuitous Night March — First Day of Second 

Manassas — Arrival of Longstreet's Corps 110 

XIV — The Second Battle of Manassas — Incidents and 

Scenes on the Battlefield 117 

XV — Battle of Chantilly — Leesburg — Crossing the Po- 
tomac 125 

XVI— Maryland— My Day in Frederick City 130 

XVII — Return to Virginia — Investment and Capture of 

Harper's Ferry 138 

XVIII — Into Maryland Again — Battle of Sharpsburg — 

Wounded — Return to Winchester — Home 144 

XIX — Return to Army — In Winter-quarters Near Port 

Royal 161 

XX — Second Battle of Fredericksburg — Chancellorsville 

— Wounding and Death of Stonewall Jackson. . 170 
XXI — Opening of Campaign of 1863 — Crossing to the 
Valley — Battle at Winchester with Milroy — 

Crossing the Potomac 179 

XXII— On the Way to Gettysburg— Battle of Gettysburg 

—Retreat 187 

XXIII— At "The Bower"— Return to Orange County, Vir- 
ginia — Blue Run Church — Bristow Station — 
Rappahannock Bridge — Supplementing Camp 

Rations 202 

XXIV— Battle of Mine Run— March to Frederick's Hall— 
Winter-quarters — Social Affairs — Again to the 
Front — Narrow Escape from Capture by Gen- 
eral Dahlgren — Furloughs — Cadets Return from 
New Market — Spottsylvania and the Wilderness 
— Return to Army at Hanover Junction — Panic 

at Night 212 

XXV — Second Cold Harbor — Wounded — Return Home — 

Refugeeing from Hunter 222 



CONTENTS 9 

PAGE 

XXVI — Personal Mention of Officers and Men — Rock- 
bridge Artillery — Second Rockbridge Artil- 
lery 234 

XXVII— Oakland— Return to Camp— Off Duty Again— 
The Race from New Market to Fort Gilmore 
— Attack on Fort Harrison — Winter-quarters 

on the Lines — Visits to Richmond 260 

XXVIII — Evacuation of Richmond — Passing Through 
Richmond by Night — The Retreat — Battle of 
Sailor's Creek — Battle of Cumberland 
Church 274 

XXIX— Appomattox 286 

Appendix 293 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

General "Stonewall" Jackson Frontispiece 

Captain William T. Poague, April, 1862— April, 1863 19 

Gun from which was fired the first hostile cannon-shot 

in the Valley of Virginia 25 

Robert A. Gibson 40 

Edward A. Moore, March, 1862 60 

John M. Brown (war-time portrait) 80 

William M. Willson (Corporal) , 98 

W. S. McClintic 120 

D. Gardiner Tyler 140 

R. T. Barton 158 

B. C. M. Friend 180 

Edward A. Moore, February, 1907 200 

Edward H. Hyde (Color-bearer) 220 

Randolph Fairfax 240 

Robert Frazer 260 

John M. Brown 280 

Fac-simile of parole signed by General Pendleton 291 



PREFACE 

More than thirty years ago, at the solicitation 
of my kinsman, H. C. McDowell, of Kentucky, 
I undertook to write a sketch of my war expe- 
rience. McDowell was a major in the Federal 
Army during the civil war, and with eleven first 
cousins, including Gen. Irvin McDowell, fought 
against the same number of first cousins in the 
Confederate Army. Various interruptions pre- 
vented the completion of my work at that time. 
More recently, after despairing of the hope that 
some more capable member of my old command, 
the Rockbridge Artillery, would not allow its 
history to pass into oblivion, I resumed the task, 
and now present this volume as the only pub- 
lished record of that company, celebrated as it 
was even in that matchless body of men, the 
Army of Northern Virginia. 

E. A. M. 



INTRODUCTION BY CAPT. ROBERT E. 
LEE, JR. 

The title of this book at once rivets atten- 
tion and invites perusal, and that pernsal does 
not disappoint expectation. The anthor was a 
cannoneer in the historic Rockbridge (Va.) Ar- 
tillery, which made for itself, from Manassas 
to Appomattox, a reputation second to none in 
the Confederate service. No more vivid picture 
has been presented of the private soldier in 
camp, on the march, or in action. It was writ- 
ten evidently not with any commercial view, 
but was an undertaking from a conviction that 
its performance was a question of duty to his 
comrades. Its unlabored and spontaneous 
character adds to its value. Its detail is evi- 
dence of a living presence, intent only upon 
truth. It is not only carefully planned, but mi- 
nutely finished. The duty has been performed 
faithfully and entertainingly. 

We are glad these delightful pages have not 
been marred by discussion of the causes or con- 
duct of the great struggle between the States. 
There is no theorizing or special pleading to 
distract our attention from the unvarnished 
story of the Confederate soldier. 

The writer is simple, impressive, and sincere. 
And his memory is not less faithful. It is a 

13 



14 INTRODUCTION 

striking and truthful portrayal of the times un- 
der the standard of one of the greatest gener- 
als of ancient or modern times. It is from such 
books that data will be gathered by the future 
historian for a true story of the great conflict 
between the States. 

For nearly a year (from March to Novem- 
ber, 1862) I served in the battery with this can- 
noneer, and for a time we were in the same 
mess. Since the war I have known him inti- 
mately, and it gives me great pleasure to be 
able to say that there is no one who could give 
a more honest and truthful account of the 
events of our struggle from the standpoint of 
a private soldier. He had exceptional opportu- 
nities for observing men and events, and has 
taken full advantage of them. 

Eobekt E. Lee. 



INTRODUCTION BY HENRY ST. GEORGE 
TUCKER 

Between 1740 and 1750 nine brothers by the 
name of Moore emigrated from the north of 
Ireland to America. Several of them settled in 
South Carolina, and of these quite a number 
participated in the Revolutionary War, several 
being kitted in battle. One of the nine brothers, 
David by name, came to Virginia and settled in 
the "Borden Grant,' ' now the northern part of 
Rockbridge County. There, in 1752, his son, 
afterward known as Gen. Andrew Moore, was 
born. His mother was a Miss Evans, of Welsh 
ancestry. Andrew Moore was educated at an 
academy afterward known as Liberty Hall. In 
early life with some of his companions he made 
a voyage to the West Indies ; was shipwrecked, 
but rescued, after many hardships, by a passing 
vessel and returned to the Colonies. Upon his 
return home he studied law in the office of 
Chancellor Wythe, at Williamsburg, and was 
licensed to practice law in 1774. In 1776 he 
entered the army as lieutenant, in Morgan's 
Riflemen, and was engaged in those battles 
which resulted in the capture of Burgoyne's 
army, and at the surrender of the British forces 
at Saratoga. For courage and gallantry in bat- 
tle he was promoted to a captaincy. Having 

15 



16 INTRODUCTION 

served three years with Morgan, he returned 
home and took his seat as a member of the Vir- 
ginia legislature, taking such an active and dis- 
tinguished part in the deliberations of that body 
that he was elected to Congress, and as a mem- 
ber of the first House of Representatives was 
distinguished for his services to such a degree 
that he was re-elected at each succeeding elec- 
tion until 1797, when he declined further service 
in that body, but accepted a seat in the Virginia 
House of Delegates. He was again elected to 
Congress in 1804, but in the first year of his 
service he was elected to the United States Sen- 
ate, in which body he served with distinguished 
ability until 1809, when he retired. He was then 
appointed United States Marshal for the Dis- 
trict of Virginia, which office he held until his 
death, April 14, 1821. His brother "William 
served as a soldier in the Indian wars, and the 
Revolutionary War. He was a lieutenant of 
riflemen at Pt. Pleasant, and carried his cap- 
tain, who had been severely wounded, from the 
field of battle, after killing the Indian who was 
about to scalp him — a feat of courage and 
strength rarely equaled. Gen. Andrew Moore's 
wife was Miss Sarah Reid, a descendant of 
Capt. John McDowell, who was killed by the In- 
dians, December 18, 1842, on James River, in 
Rockbridge County. She was the daughter of 
Capt. Andrew Reid, a soldier of the French and 
Indian War. 

Our author's father was Capt. David E. 
Moore, for twenty-three years the Attorney for 



INTRODUCTION 17 

the Commonwealth for Bockbridge County, and 
a member of the Constitutional Convention, 
1850-51. His mother was Miss Elizabeth Har- 
vey, a descendant of Benjamin Borden, and 
daughter of Matthew Harvey, who at sixteen 
years of age ran away from home and became 
a member of " Lee's Legion," participating in 
the numerous battles in which that distin- 
guished corps took part. 

Thus it will be seen that our author is of 
martial stock and a worthy descendant of those 
who never failed to respond to the call to arms ; 
the youngest of four brothers, one of whom sur- 
rendered under General Johnston, the other 
three at Appomattox, after serving throughout 
the war. It is safe to say that Virginia fur- 
nished to the Confederate service no finer ex- 
amples of true valor than our author and his 
three brothers. 

Henry St. George Tucker. 

Lexington, Va., 
December 20, 1906. 




Captain Wiujam T. Poague 

(April, 1862-April, 1863) 



FACING 19. 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 
UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 



CHAPTER I 

WASHINGTON COLLEGE LEXINGTON VIRGINIA 

MILITARY INSTITUTE 

At the age of eighteen I was a member of the 
Junior Class at Washington College at Lexing- 
ton, Virginia, during the session of 1860-61, and 
with the rest of the students was more inter- 
ested in the f oreshadowings of that ominous pe- 
riod than in the teachings of the professors. 
Among our number there were a few from the 
States farther south who seemed to have been 
born secessionists, while a large majority of the 
students were decidedly in favor of the Union. 

Our president, the Rev. Dr. George Junkin, 
who hailed from the North, was heart and soul 
a Union man, notwithstanding the fact that one 
of his daughters was the first wife of Major 
Thomas J. Jackson, who developed into the 
world-renowned ' ' Stonewall ' ' Jackson. Another 
daughter was the great Southern poetess, Mrs. 
Margaret J. Preston, and Dr. Junkin 's son, Rev, 

19 



20 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

W. F. Junkin, a most lovable man, became an 
ardent Southern soldier and a chaplain in the 
Confederate Army throughout the war. 

At the anniversary of the "Washington Lite- 
rary Society, on February 22, 1861, the right of 
secession was attacked and defended by the par- 
ticipants in the discussion, with no less zeal 
than they afterward displayed on many bloody 
battlefields. 

We had as a near neighbor the Virginia Mili- 
tary Institute, "The West Point of the South,' ' 
where scores of her young chivalry were assem- 
bled, who were eager to put into practice the 
subjects taught in their school. Previous to 
these exciting times not the most kindly feel- 
ings, and but little intercourse had existed be- 
tween the two bodies of young men. The seces- 
sion element in the College, however, finding 
more congenial company among the cadets, 
opened up the way for quite intimate and 
friendly relations between the two institutions. 
In January, 1861, the corps of cadets had been 
ordered by Governor W 7 ise to be present, as a 
military guard, at the execution of John Brown 
at Harper's Ferry. After their return more 
than the usual time was given to the drill ; and 
target-shooting with cannon and small arms 
was daily practised in our hearing. 

Only a small proportion of the citizens of the 
community favored secession, but they were 
very aggressive. One afternoon, while a huge 
Union flag-pole was being raised on the street, 
which when half-way up snapped and fell to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 21 

the ground in pieces, I witnessed a personal en- 
counter between a cadet and a mechanic (the 
latter afterward deserted from our battery dur- 
ing the Gettysburg campaign in Pennsylvania, 
his native State) , which was promptly taken up 
by their respective friends. The cadets who 
were present hastened to their barracks and, 
joined by their comrades, armed themselves, 
and with fixed bayonets came streaming at 
double-quick toward the town. They were met 
at the end of Main street by their professors, 
conspicuous among whom was Colonel Colston 
on horseback. He was a native of France and 
professor of French at the Institute; he became 
a major-general in the Confederate Army and 
later a general in the Egyptian Army. After 
considerable persuasion the cadets were induced 
to return to their barracks. 

Instead of the usual Saturday night debates 
of the College literary societies, the students 
either joined the cadets in their barracks at the 
Institute or received them at the College halls 
to harangue on the one absorbing topic. 

On the top of the main building at the Col- 
lege was a statue of Washington, and over this 
statue some of the students hoisted a palmetto 
flag. This greatly incensed our president. He 
tried, for some time, but in vain, to have the 
flag torn down. When my class went at the 
usual hour to his room to recite, and before we 
had taken our seats, he inquired if the flag was 
still flying. On being told that it was, he said, 
"The class is dismissed; I will never hear a 



m THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

recitation under a traitor's flag!" And away 
we went. 

Lincoln's proclamation calling for 75,000 men 
from Virginia, to whip in the seceded States, 
was immediately followed by the ordinance of 
secession, and the idea of nnion was abandoned 
by all. Recitation-bells no longer sounded; our 
books were left to gather dust, and forgotten, 
save only to recall those scenes that filled our 
minds with the mighty deeds and prowess of 
such characters as the "Ruling Agamemnon' ' 
and his warlike cohorts, and we could almost 
hear "the terrible clang of striking spears 
against shields, as it resounded throughout the 
army. ' ' 

There was much that seems ludicrous as we 
recall it now. The youths of the community, 
imbued with the idea that "cold steel" would 
play an important part in the conflict, provided 
themselves with huge bowie-knives, fashioned 
by our home blacksmith, and with these fierce 
weapons swinging from their belts were much 
in evidence. There were already several organ- 
ized military companies in the county. The 
Rockbridge Rifles, and a company of cavalry 
left Lexington April 17, under orders from 
Governor John Letcher, our townsman, who 
had just been inaugurated Governor of Vir- 
ginia, to report at Harper's Ferry. The cav- 
alry company endeavored to make the journey 
without a halt, and did march the first sixty- 
four miles in twenty-four hours. 

The students formed a company with J. J. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 23 

White, professor of Greek, as their captain. 
Drilling was the occupation of the day ; the stu- 
dents having excellent instructors in the cadets 
and their professors. Our outraged president 
had set out alone in his private carriage for his 
former home in the North. 

Many of the cadets were called away as drill- 
masters at camps established in different parts 
of the South, and later became distinguished 
officers in the Confederate Army, as did also a 
large number of the older alumni of the Insti- 
tute. 

The Rockbridge Artillery Company was or- 
ganized about this time, and, after a fortnight's 
drilling with the cadets ' battery, was ordered to 
the front, under command of Rev. W. N. Pen- 
dleton, rector of the Episcopal Church, and a 
graduate of West Point, as captain. 

The cadets received marching orders, and on 
that morning, for the first time since his resi- 
dence in Lexington, Major Jackson was seen in 
his element. As a professor at the Virginia 
Military Institute he was remarkable only for 
strict punctuality and discipline. I, with one of 
my brothers, had been assigned to his class in 
Sunday-school, where his regular attendance 
and earnest manner were equally striking. 

It was on a beautiful Sunday morning in May 
that the cadets received orders to move, and I 
remember how we were all astonished to see the 
Christian major, galloping to and fro on a 
spirited horse, preparing for their departure. 

In the arsenal at the Institute were large 



24 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

stores of firearms of old patterns, which were 
hauled away from time to time to supply the 
troops. I, with five others of the College com- 
pany, was detailed as a guard to a convoy of 
wagons, loaded with these arms, as far as 
Staunton, We were all about the same size, 
and with one exception members of the same 
class. In the first battle of Manassas four of 
the ^ve — Charles Bell, William Wilson, William 
Paxton and Benjamin Bradley — were killed, 
and William Anderson, now Attorney- General 
of Virginia, was maimed for life. 

There was great opposition on the part of the 
friends of the students to their going into the 
service, at any rate in one body, but they grew 
more and more impatient to be ordered out, 
and felt decidedly offended at the delay. 

Finally, in June, the long-hoped-for orders 
came. The town was filled with people from 
far and near, and every one present, old and 
young, white and black, not only shed tears, but 
actually sobbed. My father had positively for- 
bidden my going, as his other three sons, older 
than myself, were already in the field. After 
this my time was chiefly occupied in drilling 
militia in different parts of the country. And 
I am reminded to this day by my friends the 
daughters of General Pendleton of my appre- 
hensions ' ' lest the war should be over before I 
should get a trip." 




Gun from which was fired the first hostiee cannon-shot 
in the VaeeEy of Virginia 






CHAPTER II 

ENTEKING THE SEKVICE — MY FIRST BATTLE — BATTLE 
OF KEKNSTOWN 

Jackson's first engagement took place at 
Hainesville, near Martinsburg, on July 2, one 
of the Rockbridge Artillery guns firing the first 
hostile cannon-shot fired in the Valley of Vir- 
ginia. This gun is now in the possession of the 
Virginia Military Institute, and my brother 
David fired the shot. Before we knew that Jack- 
son was out of the Valley, news came of the 
battle of First Manassas, in which General Bee 
conferred upon him and his brigade the soubri- 
quet of "Stonewall," and by so doing likened 
himself to "Homer, who immortalized the vic- 
tory won by Achilles." 

In this battle the Rockbridge Artillery did 
splendid execution without losing a man, while 
the infantry in their rear, and for their sup- 
port, suffered dreadfully. The College com- 
pany alone (now Company I of the Fourth Vir- 
ginia Regiment) lost seven killed and many 
wounded. 

In August it was reported that a force of 
Federal cavalry was near the White Sulphur 
Springs, on their way to Lexington. Numbers 

25 



26 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of men from the hills and mountains around 
gathered at Collierstown, a straggling village 
in the western portion of the connty, and I 
spent the greater part of the night drilling 
them in the town-hall, getting news from time 
to time from the pickets in the mountain-pass. 
The prospect of meeting so formidable a band 
had doubtless kept the Federals from even con- 
templating such an expedition. 

The winter passed drearily along, the armies 
in all directions having only mud to contend 
with. 

Since my failure to leave with the College 
company it had been my intention to -join it the 
first opportunity; but, hearing it would be dis- 
banded in the spring, I enlisted in the Rock- 
bridge Artillery attached to the Stonewall Bri- 
gade, and with about fifty other recruits left 
Lexington March 10, 1862, to join Jackson, then 
about thirty miles south of Winchester. Some 
of us traveled on horseback, and some in farm- 
wagons secured for the purpose. We did not 
create the sensation we had anticipated, either 
on leaving Lexington or along the road ; still we 
had plenty of fun. I remember one of the party 
— a fellow with a very large chin, as well as 
cheek — riding up close to a house by the road- 
side in the door of which stood a woman with 
a number of children around her, and, taking 
off his hat, said, "God bless you, madam ! May 
you raise many for the Southern Confederacy." 

We spent Saturday afternoon and night in 
Staunton, and were quartered in a hotel kept by 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 2? 

a sour-looking old Frenchman. We were given 
an abominable supper, the hash especially being 
a most mysterious-looking dish. After retiring 
to our blankets on the floor, I heard two of the 
party, who had substituted something to drink 
for something to eat, discussing the situation 
generally, and, among other things, surmising 
as to the ingredients of the supper 's hash, when 
Winn said, ' ' Bob, I analyzed that hash. It was 
made of buttermilk, dried apples, damsons and 
wool!" 

The following day, Sunday, was clear and 
beautiful. We had about seventy miles to travel 
along the Valley turnpike. In passing a stately 
residence, on the porch of which the family had 
assembled, one of our party raised his hat in 
salutation. Not a member of the family took 
the least notice of the civility; but a negro girl, 
who was sweeping off the pavement in front, 
flourished her broom around her head most en- 
thusiastically, which raised a general shout. 

We arrived at Camp Buchanan, a few miles 
below Mount Jackson, on Monday afternoon. I 
then, for the first time since April, 1861, saw 
my brother John. How tough and brown he 
looked ! He had been transferred to the Rock- 
bridge Artillery shortly before the first battle 
of Manassas, and with my brother David be- 
longed to a mess of as interesting young men 
as I ever knew. Some of them I have not seen 
for more than forty years. Mentioning their 
names may serve to recall incidents connected 
with them : My two brothers, both graduates of 



28 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Washington College ; Berkeley Minor, a student 
at the University of Virginia, a perfect book- 
worm; Alex. Boteler, student of the University 
of Virginia, son of Hon. Alex. Boteler, of West 
Virginia, and his two cousins, Henry and 
Charles Boteler, of Shepherds town, West Vir- 
ginia; Thompson and Magruder Maury, both 
clergymen after the war; Joe Shaner, of Lex- 
ington, Virginia, as kind a friend as I ever had, 
and who carried my blanket for me on his off- 
horse at least one thousand miles; John M. 
Gregory, of Charles City County, an A.M. of 
the University of Virginia. How distinctly I 
recall his large, well-developed head, fair skin 
and clear blue eyes ; and his voice is as familiar 
to me as if I had heard it yesterday. Then the 
brothers, Walter and Joe Packard, of the neigh- 
borhood of Alexandria, Virginia, sons of the 
Rev. Dr. Packard, of the Theological Seminary, 
and both graduates of colleges ; Frank Preston, 
of Lexington, graduate of Washington College, 
who died soon after the war while professor of 
Greek at William and Mary College, a whole- 
souled and most companionable fellow; William 
Boiling, of Fauquier County, student of Uni- 
versity of Virginia; Frank Singleton, of Ken- 
tucky, student of University of Virginia, whom 
William Williamson, another member of the 
mess and a graduate of Washington College, 
pronounced "always a gentleman. " William- 
son was quite deaf, and Singleton always, in 
the gentlest and most patient way, would re- 
peat for his benefit anything he failed to hear. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 29 

Last, and most interesting of all, was George 
Bedinger, of Shepherdstown, a student of the 
University of Virginia. 

There were men in the company from almost 
every State in the South, and several from 
Northern States. Among the latter were two 
sons of Commodore Porter, of the United States 
Navy, one of whom went by the name of i l Por- 
ter-he,' ' from his having gone with Sergeant 
Paxton to visit some young ladies, and, on their 
return, being asked how they had enjoyed their 
visit, the sergeant said, "Oh, splendidly! and 
Porter, he were very much elated. ' ' 

Soon after my arrival supper was ready, and 
I joined the mess in my first meal in camp, and 
was astonished to see how they relished fat ba- 
con, "flap-jacks" and strong black coffee in 
big tin cups. The company was abundantly 
supplied with first-rate tents, many of them 
captured from the enemy, and everybody 
seemed to be perfectly at home and happy. 

I bunked with my brother John, but there 
was no sleep for me that first night. There 
were just enough cornstalks under me for each 
to be distinctly felt, and the ground between 
was exceedingly cold. We remained in this camp 
until the following Friday, when orders came 
to move. 

We first marched about three miles south, or 
up the Valley, then countermarched, going 
about twenty miles, and on Saturday twelve 
miles farther, which brought us, I thought, and 
it seemed to be the general impression, in rather 



SO THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

close proximity to the enemy. There having 
been only a few skirmishes since Manassas in 
July, 1861, none of us dreamed of a battle; but 
very soon a cannon boomed two or three miles 
ahead, then another and another. The boys 
said, "That's Chew's battery, under Ashby." 

Pretty soon Chew's battery was answered, 
and for the first time I saw and heard a shell 
burst, high in the air, leaving a little cloud of 
white smoke. On we moved, halting frequently, 
as the troops were being deployed in line of bat- 
tle. Our battery turned out of the pike and we 
had not heard a shot for half an hour. In front 
of us lay a stretch of half a mile of level, open 
ground and beyond this a wooded hill, for which 
we seemed to be making. When half-way across 
the low ground, as I was walking by my gun, 
talking to a comrade at my side, a shell burst 
with a terrible crash — it seemed to me almost 
on my head. The concussion knocked me to my 
knees, and my comrade sprawling on the 
ground. We then began to feel that we were 
"going in," and a most weakening effect it had 
on the stomach. 

I recall distinctly the sad, solemn feeling pro- 
duced by seeing the ambulances brought up to 
the front ; it was entirely too suggestive. Soon 
we reached the woods and were ascending the 
hill along a little ravine, for a position, when 
a solid shot broke the trunnions of one of the 
guns, thus disabling it; then another, nearly 
spent, struck a tree about half-way up and fell 
nearby. Just after we got to the top of the hill, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 31 

and within fifty or one hundred yards of the 
position we were to take, a shell struck the off- 
wheel horse of my gun and burst. The horse 
was torn to pieces, and the pieces thrown in ev- 
ery direction. The saddle-horse was also horri- 
bly mangled, the driver's leg was cut off, as 
was also the foot of a man who was walking 
alongside. Both men died that night. A white 
horse working in the lead looked more like a 
bay after the catastrophe. To one who had been 
in the army but iive days, and but five minutes 
under fire, this seemed an awful introduction. 

The other guns of the battery had gotten into 
position before we had cleared up the wreck of 
our team and put in two new horses. As soon 
as this was done we pulled up to where the 
other guns were firing, and passed by a mem- 
ber of the company, John Wallace, horribly 
torn by a shell, but still alive. On reaching the 
crest of the hill, which was clear, open ground, 
we got a full view of the enemy's batteries on 
the hills opposite. 

In the woods on our left, and a few hundred 
yards distant, the infantry were hotly engaged, 
the small arms keeping up an incessant roar. 
Neither side seemed to move an inch. From 
about the Federal batteries in front of us came 
regiment after regiment of their infantry, 
marching in line of battle, with the Stars and 
Stripes flying, to join in the attack on our in- 
fantry, who were not being reinforced at all, as 
everything but the Fifth Virginia had been en- 
gaged from the first. We did some fine shooting 



32 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

at their advancing infantry, their batteries hav- 
ing" almost quit firing. The battle had now con- 
tinued for two or three hours. Now, for the 
first time, I heard the keen whistle of the Minie- 
ball. Our infantry was being driven back and 
the Federals were in close pursuit. 

Seeing the day was lost, we were ordered to 
limber up and leave. Just then a large force 
of the enemy came in sight in the woods on our 
left. The gunner of the piece nearest them 
had his piece loaded with canister, and fired the 
charge into their ranks as they crowded through 
a narrow opening in a stone fence. One of the 
guns of the battery, having several of its horses 
killed, fell into the hands of the enemy. About 
this time the Fifth Virginia Regiment, which, 
through some misunderstanding of orders, had 
not been engaged, arrived on the crest of the 
hill, and I heard General Jackson, as he rode to 
their front, direct the men to form in line and 
check the enemy. But everything else was now 
in full retreat, with Minie-balls to remind us 
that it would not do to stop. Running back 
through the woods, I passed close by John Wal- 
lace as he lay dying. Night came on opportunely 
and put an end to the pursuit, and to the taking 
of prisoners, though we lost several hundred 
men. I afterward heard Capt. George Junkin, 
nephew of the Northern college president, Gen- 
eral Jackson's adjutant, say that he had the ex- 
act number of men engaged on our side, and 
that there were 2,700 in the battle. The enemy's 
official report gave their number as 8,000. Jack- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 33 

son had General Garnett, of the Stonewall Bri- 
gade, suspended from office for not bringing up 
the Fifth Regiment in time. 

It was dusk when I again found myself on 
the turnpike, and I followed the few indistinct 
moving figures in the direction of safety. I 
stopped for a few minutes near a camp-fire, in 
a piece of woods, where our infantry halted, 
and I remember hearing the colored cook of one 
of their messes asking in piteous tones, over 
and over again, "Marse George, where 's Marse 
Charles?" No answer was made, but the sor- 
rowful face of the one interrogated was re- 
sponse enough. I got back to the village of 
Newtown, about three miles from the battlefield, 
where I joined several members of the battery 
at a hospitable house. Here we were kindly 
supplied with food, and, as the house was full, 
were allowed to sleep soundly on the floor. This 
battle was known as Kernstown. 



CHAPTER III 

THE RETREAT — CEDAR CREEK — GENERAL ASHBY — 
SKIRMISHES — M 'GAHEYSVILLE 

The next dawn brought a raw, gloomy Sun- 
day. We found the battery a mile or two from 
the battlefield, where we lay all day, thinking, 
of course, the enemy would follow up their vic- 
tory ; but this they showed no inclination to do. 
On Monday we moved a mile or more toward 
our old camp — Buchanan. On Tuesday, about 
noon, we reached Cedar Creek, the scene of one 
of General Early's battles more than two years 
afterward, 1864. The creek ran through a nar- 
row defile, and, the bridge having been burned, 
we crossed in single file, on the charred timbers, 
still clinging together and resting on the sur- 
face of the water. Just here, for the first time 
since Kernstown, the Federal cavalry attacked 
the rear of our column, and the news and com- 
motion reached my part of the line when I was 
half -across the stream. The man immediately 
in front of me, being in too much of a hurry to 
follow the file on the bridge-planks, jumped 
frantically into the stream. He was fished out 
of the cold waters, shoulder deep, on the bayo- 
nets of the infantry on the timbers. 

34 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 35 

We found our wagons awaiting us on top of 
a high hill beyond, and went into camp about 
noon, to get up a whole meal, to which we 
thought we could do full justice. But, alas ! alas ! 
About the time the beans were done, and each 
had his share in a tin plate or cup, "bang!" 
went a cannon on the opposite hill, and the shell 
screamed over our heads. My gun being a rifled 
piece, was ordered to hitch up and go into posi- 
tion, and my appetite was gone. Turning to my 
brother, I said, "John, I don't want these 
beans ! ' ' My friend Bedinger gave me a home- 
made biscuit, which I ate as I followed the gun. 
We moved out and across the road with two 
guns, and took position one hundred yards 
nearer the enemy. The guns were unlimbered 
and loaded just in time to fire at a column of 
the enemy's cavalry which had started down the 
opposite hill at a gallop. The guns were dis- 
charged simultaneously, and the two shells 
burst in the head of their column, and by the 
time the smoke and dust had cleared up that 
squadron of cavalry was invisible. This check 
gave the wagons and troops time to get in 
marching order, and after firing a few more 
rounds we followed. 

As we drove into the road again, I saw sev- 
eral infantrymen lying horribly torn by shells, 
and the clothes of one of them on fire. I after- 
ward heard amusing accounts of the exit of the 
rest of the company from this camp. Quarter- 
master "John D." had his teams at a full trot, 
with the steam flying* from the still hot camp- 



36 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

kettles as they rocked to and fro on the tops of 
the wagons. In a day or two we were again in 
Camp Buchanan, and pitched our tents on their 
old sites and kindled our fires with the old em- 
bers. Here more additions were made to the 
company, among them E. E. Lee, Jr., son of 
the General ; Arthur A. Robinson, of Baltimore, 
and Edward Hyde, of Alexandria. After a few 
nights ' rest and one or two square meals every- 
thing was as gay as ever. 

An hour or two each day was spent in going 
through the artillery manual. Every morning 
we heard the strong, clear voice of an infantry 
officer drilling his men, which I learned was the 
voice of our cousin, James Allen, colonel of the 
Second Virginia Regiment. He was at least 
half a mile distant. About the fourth or fifth 
day after our return to camp we were ordered 
out to meet the enemy, and moved a few miles 
in their direction, but were relieved on learn- 
ing that it was a false alarm, and counter- 
marched to the same camp. When we went to 
the wagons for our cooking utensils, etc., my 
heavy double blanket, brought from home, had 
been lost, which made the ground seem colder 
and the stalks rougher. With me the nights, 
until bedtime, were pleasant enough. There 
were some good voices in the company, two or 
three in our mess; Bedinger and his cousin, 
Alec Boteler, both sang well, but Boteler stam- 
mered badly when talking, and Bedinger kept 
him in a rage half the time mocking him, fre- 
quently advising him to go back home and learn 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 37 

to talk. Still they were bedfellows and devoted 
friends. I feel as if I could hear Bedinger now, 
as he shifted around the fire, to keep out of the 
smoke, singing: 

"Though the world may call me gay, yet my feelings I 
smother, 
For thou art the cause of this anguish— my mother." 
* # * * # 

A thing that I was very slow to learn was to 
sit on the ground with any comfort; and a log 
or a fence, for a few minutes ' rest, was a thing 
of joy. Then the smoke from the camp-fires al- 
most suffocated me, and always seemed to blow 
toward me, though each of the others thought 
himself the favored one. But the worst part of 
the twenty-four hours was from bedtime till 
daylight, half-awake and half -asleep and half- 
frozen. I was, since Kernstown, having that 
battle all over and over again. 

I noticed a thing in this camp (it being the 
first winter of the war), in which experience 
and necessity afterward made a great change. 
The soldiers, not being accustomed to fires out- 
of-doors, frequently had either the tails of their 
overcoats burned off, or big holes or scorched 
places in their pantaloons. 

Since Jackson's late reverse, more troops be- 
ing needed, the militia had been ordered out, 
and the contingent from Eockbridge County 
was encamped a few miles in rear of us. I got 
permission from our captain to go to see them 
and hear the news from home. Among them 
were several merchants of Lexington, and 



38 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

steady old farmers from the county. They were 
much impressed with the accounts of the battle 
and spoke very solemnly of war. I had ridden 
Sergeant Baxter McCorkle's horse, and, on my 
return, soon after passing through Mt. Jackson, 
overtook Bedinger and Charley Boteler, with a 
canteen of French brandy which a surgeon- 
friend in town had given them. As a return 
for a drink, I asked Bedinger to ride a piece 
on my horse, which, for some time, he declined 
to do, but finally said, "All right; get down." 
He had scarcely gotten into the saddle before 
he plied the horse with hat and heels, and away 
he went down the road at full speed and dis- 
appeared in the distance. 

This was more kindness than I had intended, 
but it afforded a good laugh. Boteler and the 
brandy followed the horseman, and I turned in 
and spent the night with the College company, 
quartered close by as a guard to General Jack- 
son's headquarters. I got back to camp the 
next afternoon, Sunday. McCorkle had just 
found his horse, still saddled and bridled, graz- 
ing in a wheat-field. 

From Camp Buchanan we fell back to Bude's 
Hill, four miles above Mt. Jackson and over- 
looking the Shenandoah Biver. About once in 
three days our two Parrott guns, to one of 
which I belonged, were sent down to General 
Ashby, some ten miles, for picket service to 
supply the place of Chew's battery, which ex- 
hausted its ammunition in daily skirmishes 
with the enemy. Ashby himself was always 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 39 

there; and an agreeable, unpretending gentle- 
man he was. His complexion was very dark 
and his hair and beard as black as a raven. He 
was always in motion, mounted on one of his 
three superb stallions, one of which was coal- 
black, another a chestnut sorrel, and the third 
white. On our first trip we had a lively can- 
nonade, and the white horse in our team, still 
bearing the stains of blood from the Kernstown 
carnage, reared and plunged furiously during 
the firing. The Federal skirmish line was about 
a mile off, near the edge of some woods, and at 
that distance looked very harmless ; but when I 
looked at them through General Ashby's field- 
glass it made them look so large, and brought 
them so close, that it startled me. There was a 
fence between, and, on giving the glass a slight 
jar, I imagined they jumped the fence; I pre- 
ferred looking at them with the naked eye. Bob 
Lee volunteered to go with us another day (he 
belonged to another detachment). He seemed 
to enjoy the sport much. He had not been at 
Kernstown, and I thought if he had, possibly he 
would have felt more as did I and the white 
horse. 

On our way down on another expedition, hear- 
ing the enemy were driving in our pickets, and 
that we would probably have some lively work 
and running, I left my blanket — a blue one I 
had recently borrowed — at the house of a mu- 
latto woman by the roadside, and told her I 
would call for it as we came back. We returned 
soon, but the woman, learning that a battle was 



40 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

impending, had locked up and gone. This 
blanket was my only wrap during the chilly 
nights, so I must have it. The guns had gone 
on. As I stood deliberating as to what I should 
do, General Ashby came riding by. I told him 
my predicament and asked, ' ' Shall I get in and 
get it 1 ' ' He said, ' ' Yes, certainly. ' ' With the 
help of an axe I soon had a window-sash out and 
my blanket in my possession. From these fre- 
quent picket excursions I got the name of 
"Veteran." My friend Boiling generously of- 
fered to go as my substitute on one expedition, 
but the Captain, seeing our two detachments 
were being overworked, had all relieved and 
sent other detachments with our guns. 

From Rude's Hill about fifty of us recruits 
were detailed to go to Harrisonburg — Lieuten- 
ant Graham in command — to guard prisoners. 
The prisoners were quartered in the court- 
house. Among them were a number of Dun- 
kards from the surrounding country, whose 
creed was "No fight." I was appointed cor- 
poral, the only promotion I was honored with 
during the war, and that only for the detailed 
service. Here we spent a week or ten days, 
pleasantly, with good fare and quarters. Things 
continued quiet at the front during this time. 

The enemy again advanced, and quite a lively 
cavalry skirmish was had from Mt. Jackson to 
the bridge across the Shenandoah. The enemy 
tried hard to keep our men from burning this 
bridge, and in the fray Ashby 's white horse 
was mortally wounded under him and his own 








Robert A. Gibson 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 41 

life saved by the daring interposition of one of 
his men. His horse lived to carry him out, but 
fell dead as soon as he had accomplished it; 
and, after his death, every hair was pulled from 
his tail by Ashby's men as mementoes of the 
occasion. 

Jackson fell back slowly, and, on reaching 
Harrisonburg, to our dismay, the head of the 
column filed to the left, on the road leading to- 
ward the Blue Ridge, thus disclosing the fact 
that the Valley was to be given up a prey to 
the enemy. Gloom was seen on every face at 
feeling that our homes were forsaken. We car- 
ried our prisoners along, and a miserable-look- 
ing set the poor Dunkards were, with their long 
beards and solemn eyes. A little fun, though, we 
would have. Every mile or so, and at every 
cross-road, a sign-post was stuck up, "Keezle- 
town Road, 2 miles/ ' and of every countryman 
or darky along the way some wag would in- 
quire the distance to Keezletown, and if he 
thought we could get there before night. 

By dawn next morning we were again on the 
march. I have recalled this early dawn oftener, 
I am sure, than any other of my whole life. Our 
road lay along the edge of a forest, occasionally 
winding in and out of it. At the more open 
places we could see the Blue Ridge in the near 
distance. During the night a slight shower had 
moistened the earth and leaves, so that our 
steps, and even the wheels of the artillery, were 
scarcely heard. Here and there on the roadside 
was the home of a soldier, in which he had just 



42 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

passed probably his last night. I distinctly re- 
call now the sobs of a wife or mother as she 
moved about, preparing a meal for her husband 
or son, and the thoughts it gave rise to. Very 
possibly it helped also to remind us that we had 
left camp that morning without any breakfast 
ourselves. At any rate, I told my friend, Joe 
McCalpin, who was quite too modest a man to 
forage, and face a strange family in quest of a 
meal, that if he would put himself in my charge 
I would promise! him a good breakfast. 

In a few miles we reached McGaheysville, a 
quiet, comfortable little village away off in the 
hills. The sun was now up, and now was the 
time and this the place. A short distance up a 
cross- street I saw a motherly-looking old lady 
standing at her gate, watching the passing 
troops. Said I, "Mac, there's the place." We 
approached, and I announced the object of our 
visit. She said, * ' Breakfast is just ready. Walk 
in, sit down at the table, and make yourselves 
at home. A breakfast it was — fresh eggs, white 
light biscuit and other toothsome articles. A 
man of about forty-five years — a boarder — re- 
marked, at the table, ' ' The war has not cost me 
the loss of an hour's sleep.' ' The good mother 
said, with a quavering tone of voice, "I have 
sons in the army." 



CHAPTER IV 

SWIFT RUN GAP REORGANIZATION OF THE BATTERY 

WADING IN THE MUD CROSSING AND RE- 
CROSSING THE BLUE RIDGE BA 

ELL RETURN TO THE VALLEY 



CROSSING THE BLUE RIDGE BATTLE OF m' DOW- 



We reached the south branch of the Shenan- 
doah about noon, crossed on a bridge, and that 
night camped in Swift Run Gap. Our detail 
was separated from the battery and I, there- 
fore, not with my own mess. We occupied a 
low, flat piece of ground with a creek alongside 
and about forty yards from the tent in which 
I stayed. The prisoners were in a barn a quar- 
ter of a mile distant. Here we had most 
wretched weather, real winter again, rain or 
snow almost all the time. One night about mid- 
night I was awakened by hearing a horse 
splashing through water just outside of the tent 
and a voice calling to the inmates to get out of 
the flood. The horse was backed half into the 
tent-door, and, one by one, my companions left 
me. My bunk was on a little rise. I put my 
hand out — into the water. I determined, how- 
ever, to stay as long as I could, and was soon 
asleep, which showed that I was becoming a 
soldier — in one important respect at least. By 



44 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

daylight, the flood having subsided, I was able 
to reach a fence and "coon it" to a hill above. 
While in this camp, as the time had expired 
for which most of the soldiers enlisted, the 
army was reorganized. The battery having 
more men than was a quota for one company, 
the last recruits were required to enlist in other 
companies or to exchange with older members 
who wished to change. Thus some of our most 
interesting members left us, to join other com- 
mands, and the number of our guns was reduced 
from eight to six. The prisoners were now 
disposed of, and I returned to my old mess. Af- 
ter spending about ten days in this wretched 
camp we marched again, following the Shenan- 
doah Eiver along the base of the mountains to- 
ward Port Republic. After such weather, the 
dirt-roads were, of course, almost bottomless. 
The wagons monopolized them during the day, 
so we had to wait until they were out of the 
way. When they halted for the night, we took 
the mud. The depth of it was nearly up to my 
knees and frequently over them. The bushes on 
the sides of the road, and the darkness, com- 
pelled us to wade right in. Here was swearing 
and growling, "Flanders and Flounders.' ' An 
infantryman was cursing Stonewall most elo- 
quently, when the old Christian rode by, and, 
hearing him, said, in his short way, "It's for 
your own good, sir!" The wagons could make 
only six miles during the day, and, by traveling 
this distance after night, we reached them 
about nine o'clock. We would then build fires, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 45 

get our cooking utensils, and cook our suppers, 
and, by the light of the fires, see our muddy 
condition and try to dry off before retiring to 
the ground. We engaged in this sort of warfare 
for three days, when we reached Port Republic, 
eighteen miles from our starting-point and 
about the same distance from Staunton. Our 
movements, or rather Jackson's, had entirely 
bewildered us as to his intentions. 

While we were at Swift Run, Ewell's division, 
having been brought from the army around 
Richmond, was encamped just across the moun- 
tain opposite us. We remained at Port Repub- 
lic several days. Our company was convenient 
to a comfortable farmhouse, where hot apple 
turnovers were constantly on sale. Our hopes 
for remaining in the Valley were again blasted 
when the wagons moved out on the Brown's 
Gap road and we followed across the Blue 
Ridge, making our exit from the pass a few 
miles north of Medium's River, which we 
reached about noon of the following day. 

There had been a good deal of cutting at each 
other among the members of the company who 
hailed from different sides of the Blue Ridge — 
"Tuckahoes" and "Cohees," as they are pro- 
vincially called. ' ' Lit ' ' Macon, formerly sheriff 
of Albemarle County, an incessant talker, had 
given us glowing accounts of the treatment we 
would receive "on t'other side." " Jam puffs, 
jam puffs!" Joe Shaner and I, having some- 
thing of a turn for investigating the resources 
of a new country, took the first opportunity of 



46 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

testing Macon's promised land. We selected a 
fine-looking house, and, approaching it, made 
known our wants to a young lady. She left us 
standing outside of the yard, we supposed to 
cool off while she made ready for our entertain- 
ment in the house. In this we were mistaken; 
for, after a long time, she returned and handed 
us, through the fence, some cold corn-bread and 
bacon. This and similar experiences by others 
gave us ample means to tease Macon about the 
grand things we were to see and enjoy "on 
t'other side." 

We were now much puzzled as to the mean- 
ing of this "wiring in and wiring out," as we 
had turned to the right on crossing the moun- 
tain and taken the road toward Staunton. To 
our astonishment we recrossed the mountain, 
from the top of which we again gazed on that 
grand old Valley, and felt that our homes might 
still be ours. A mile or two from the mountain 
lay the quiet little village of Waynesboro, 
where we arrived about noon. As I was pass- 
ing along the main street, somewhat in advance 
of the battery, Frank Preston came running out 
of one of the houses — the Waddells' — and, with 
his usual take-no-excuse style, dragged me in to 
face a family of the prettiest girls in Virginia. 
I was immediately taken to the dining-room, 
where were "jam puffs" sure enough, and the 
beautiful Miss Nettie to divide my attention. 

The next day we camped near Staunton and 
remained a day. Conjecturing now as to Jack- 
son's program was wild, so we concluded to let 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 47 

him have his own way. The cadets of the Vir- 
ginia Military Institute, most of whom were 
boys under seventeen, had, in this emergency, 
been ordered to the field, and joined the line of 
march as we passed through Staunton, and the 
young ladies of that place made them the heroes 
of the army, to the disgust of the ' ' Veterans ' ' of 
the old Stonewall Brigade. Our course was now 
westward, and Milroy, who was too strong for 
General Ed. Johnson in the Alleghanies, was 
the object. About twenty miles west of Staun- 
ton was the home of a young lady friend, and, 
on learning that our road lay within four miles 
of it, I determined at least to try to see her. 
Sergeant Clem. Fishburne, who was related to 
the family, expected to go with me, but at the 
last moment gave it up, so I went alone. To 
my very great disappointment she was not at 
home, but her sisters entertained me nicely with 
music, etc., and filled my haversack before I 
left. Just before starting off in the afternoon 
I learned that cannonading had been heard to- 
ward the front. When a mile or two on my way 
a passing cavalryman, a stranger to me, kindly 
offered to carry my overcoat, which he did, and 
left it with the battery. 

The battery had marched about fifteen miles 
after I had left it, so I had to retrace my four 
miles, then travel the fifteen, crossing two 
mountains. I must have walked at least five 
miles an hour, as I reached the company before 
sundown. They had gone into camp. My 
brother John, and Frank Preston, seeing me 



48 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

approach, came out to meet me, and told me 
how excessively uneasy they had been about 
me all day. A battle had been fought and they 
had expected to be called on every moment, and, 
"Suppose we had gone in, and you orT forag- 
ing!" How penitent I felt, and at the same 
time how grateful for having two such anxious 
guardians! While expressing this deep inter- 
est they each kept an eye on my full haversack. 
"Well," said I, "I have some pabulum here; 
let's go to the mess and give them a snack." 
They said, "That little bit wouldn't be a drop 
in the bucket with all that mess; let's just go 
down yonder to the branch and have one real 
good old-fashioned repast." So off we went to 
the branch, and by the time they were through 
congratulating me on getting back before the 
battery had "gotten into it," my haversack was 
empty. The battle had been fought by Johnson's 
division, the enemy whipped and put to flight. 
The next day we started in pursuit, passing- 
through McDowell, a village in Highland Coun- 
ty, and near this village the fight had occurred. 
The ground was too rough and broken for the 
effective use of artillery, so the work was done 
by the infantry on both sides. This was the 
first opportunity that many of us had had of 
seeing a battlefield the day after the battle. The 
ghastly faces of the dead made a sickening and 
lasting impression; but I hoped I did not look 
as pale as did some of the young cadets, who 
proved gallant enough afterward. We con- 
tinued the pursuit a day or two through that 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 49 

wild mountainous country, but Milroy stopped 
only once after his defeat, for a skirmish. In 
a meadow and near the roadside stood a de- 
serted cabin, which had been struck several 
times during the skirmish by shells. I went in- 
side of it, to see what a shell could do. Three 
had penetrated the outer wall and burst in the 
house, and I counted twenty-seven holes made 
through the frame partition by the fragments. 
Being an artilleryman, and therefore to be ex- 
posed to missiles of that kind, I concluded that 
my chances for surviving the war were ex- 
tremely slim. 

"While on this expedition an amusing incident 
occurred in our mess. There belonged to it 
quite a character. He was not considered a 
pretty boy, and tried to get even with the world 
by taking good care of himself. We had halted 
one morning to cook several days' rations, and 
a large pile of bread was placed near the fire, 
of which we were to eat our breakfast and the 
rest was to be divided among us. He came, we 
thought, too often to the pile, and helped him- 
self bountifully ; he would return to his seat on 
his blanket, and one or two of us saw, or thought 
we saw, him conceal pieces of bread under it. 
Nothing was said at the time, but after he had 
gone away Boiling, Packard and I concluded to 
examine his haversack, which looked very fat. 
In it we found about half a gallon of rye for 
coffee, a hock of bacon, a number of home-made 
buttered biscuit, a hen-egg and a goose-egg, be- 
sides more than his share of camp rations. Here 



50 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

was our chance to teach a Christian man in an 
agreeable way that he should not appropriate 
more than his share of the rations without the 
consent of the mess, so we set to and ate heart- 
ily of his good stores, and in their place put, for 
ballast, a river-jack that weighed about two 
pounds. He carried the stone for two days be- 
fore he ate down to it, and, when he did, was 
mad enough to eat it. We then told him what 
we had done and why, but thought he had hid- 
den enough under his blanket to carry him 
through the campaign. 

Before leaving the Valley we had observed 
decided evidences of spring ; but here it was like 
mid- winter — not a bud nor blade of grass to be 
seen. Milroy was now out of reach, so we re- 
traced our steps. On getting out of the moun- 
tains we bore to the left of Staunton in the di- 
rection of Harrisonburg, twenty-five miles 
northeast of the former. After the bleak moun- 
tains, with their leafless trees, the old Valley 
looked like Paradise. The cherry- and peach- 
trees were loaded with bloom, the fields covered 
with rank clover, and how our weary horses did 
revel in it ! We camped the first night in a beau- 
tiful meadow, and soon after settling down I 
borrowed Sergeant Gregory's one-eyed horse 
to go foraging on. I was very successful; I 
got supper at a comfortable Dutch house, and 
at it and one or two others I bought myself and 
the mess rich. As I was returning to camp af- 
ter night with a ham of bacon between me and 
the pommel of the saddle, a bucket of butter on 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 51 

one arm, a kerchief of pies on the other, and 
chickens swung across behind, my one-eyed 
horse stumbled and fell forward about ten feet 
with his nose to the ground. I let him take care 
of himself while I took care of my provisions. 
When he recovered his feet and started, I do 
not think a single one of my possessions had 
slipped an inch. 



CHAPTER V 

BRIDGEWATER LURAY VALLEY FRONT ROYAL — 

FOLLOWING GENERAL BANKS NIGHT MARCH 

BATTLE OF WINCHESTER BANKS *S RETREAT 

The next day we who were on foot crossed 
the Shenandoah on a bridge made of wagons 
standing side by side, with tongues up-stream, 
and boards extending from one wagon to an- 
other. We reached Bridgewater about four p. m. 
It was a place of which I had never heard, and 
a beautiful village it proved to be, buried in 
trees and flowers. From Bridgewater we went 
to Harrisonburg, and then on our old familiar 
and beaten path — the Valley pike to New Mar- 
ket. Thence obliquely to the right, crossing the 
Massanutten Mountain into Luray Valley. Dur- 
ing the Milroy campaign Ewell had crossed into 
the Valley, and we now followed his division, 
which was several miles in advance. Banks was 
in command of the Union force in the Valley, 
with his base at Winchester and detachments of 
his army at Strasburg, eighteen miles south- 
west, and at Front Royal, about the same dis- 
tance in the Luray Valley. So the latter place 
was to be attacked first. About three p. m. the 
following day cannonading was heard on ahead, 

52 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 53 

and, after a sharp fight, Ewell carried the day. 
We arrived about sundown, after it was all 
over. In this battle the First Maryland Regi- 
ment (Confederate) had met the First Mary- 
land (Federal) and captured the whole regi- 
ment. Several members of our battery had 
brothers or other relatives in the Maryland 
(Confederate) regiment, whom they now met 
for the first time since going into service. Next 
day we moved toward Middletown on the Val- 
ley pike, and midway between Winchester and 
Strasburg. 

Jackson's rapid movements seemed to have 
taken the enemy entirely by surprise, and we 
struck their divided forces piecemeal, and even 
after the Front Royal affair their troops at 
Strasburg, consisting chiefly of cavalry, had not 
moved. Two of our guns were sent on with the 
Louisiana Tigers, to intercept them at Middle- 
town. The guns were posted about one hundred 
and fifty yards from the road, and the Tigers 
strung along behind a stone fence on the road- 
side. Everything was in readiness when the 
enemy came in sight. They wavered for a time, 
some trying to pass around, but, being pushed 
from behind, there was no alternative. Most of 
them tried to run the gauntlet; few, however, 
got through, As the rest of us came up we met 
a number of prisoners on horseback. They had 
been riding at a run for nine miles on the pike 
in a cloud of white dust. Many of them were 
hatless, some had saber-cuts on their heads and 
streams of blood were coursing down through 



54 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

the dust on their faces. Among them was a 
woman wearing a short red skirt and mounted 
on a tall horse. 

Confined in a churchyard in the village were 
two or three hundred prisoners. As we were 
passing by them an old negro cook, belonging 
to the Alleghany Eough Battery of our brigade, 
ran over to the fence and gave them a hearty 
greeting, said he was delighted to see them 
"thar," and that we would catch all the rest 
of them before they got back home. Banks's 
main force was at "Winchester, and thither we 
directed our course. 

Newtown was the next village, and there we 
had another skirmish, our artillery being at one 
end of the town and the enemy's at the opposite. 
In this encounter two members of our battery 
were wounded. There was great rejoicing 
among the people to see us back again and to 
be once more free from Northern soldiers. As 
the troops were passing through Newtown a 
very portly old lady came running out on her 
porch, and, spreading her arms wide, called out, 
"All of you run here and kiss me!" 

Night soon set in, and a long, weary night it 
was; the most trying I ever passed, in war or 
out of it. From dark till daylight we did not 
advance more than four miles. Step by step we 
moved along, halting for five minutes; then on 
a few steps and halt again. About ten o'clock 
we passed by a house rather below the roadside, 
on the porch of which lay several dead Yankees, 
& light shining on their ghastly faces. Occasion- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 55 

ally we were startled by the sharp report of a 
rifle, followed in quick succession by others; 
then all as quiet as the grave. Sometimes, when 
a longer halt was made, we would endeavor to 
steal a few moments' sleep, for want of which 
it was hard to stand up. By the time a blanket 
was unrolled, the column was astir again, and 
so it continued throughout the long, dreary 
hours of the night. 

At last morning broke clear and beautiful, 
finding us about two miles from Winchester. 
After moving on for perhaps half a mile, we 
filed to the left. All indications were that a bat- 
tle was imminent, Banks evidently intending to 
make one more effort. The sun was up, and 
never shone on a prettier country nor a lovelier 
May morning. Along our route was a brigade 
of Louisiana troops under the command of Gen. 
Dick Taylor, of E well's division. They were in 
line of battle in a ravine, and as we were pass- 
ing by them several shells came screaming close 
over our heads and burst just beyond. I heard 
a colonel chiding his men for dodging, one of 
whom called out, in reply, i i Colonel, lead us up 
to where we can get at them and then we won't 
dodge!" We passed on, bearing to the right 
and in the direction from which the shells came. 
General Jackson ordered us to take position on 
the hill just in front. The ground was covered 
with clover, and as we reached the crest we 
were met by a volley of musketry from a line 
of infantry behind a stone fence about two hun- 
dred vards distant. 



56 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

My gun was one of the last to get into posi- 
tion, coming up on the left. I was assigned the 
position of No. 2, Jim Ford No. 1. The Minie- 
balls were now flying fast by our heads, through 
the clover and everywhere. A charge of pow- 
der was handed me, which I put into the muzzle 
of the gun. In a rifled gun this should have 
been rammed home first, but No. 1 said, "Put 
in your shell and let one ram do. Hear those 
Minies?" I heard them and adopted the sug- 
gestion; the consequence was, the charge 
stopped half-way down and there it stuck, and 
the gun was thereby rendered unavailable. This 
was not very disagreeable, even from a patri- 
otic point of view, as we could do but little good 
shooting at infantry behind a stone fence. On 
going about fifty yards to the rear, I came up 
with my friend and messmate, Gregory, who 
was being carried by several comrades. A 
Minie-ball had gone through his left arm into 
his breast and almost through his body, lodging 
in the right side of his back. Still he recovered, 
and was a captain of ordnance at the surrender, 
and two years ago I visited him at his own home 
in California. As my train stopped at his depot, 
and I saw a portly old gentleman with a long 
white beard coming to meet it, I thought of the 
youth I remembered, and said, "Can that be 
Gregory ? ' ' 

Then came Frank Preston with his arm shat- 
tered, which had to be amputated at the shoul- 
der. I helped to carry Gregory to a barn one 
hundred and fifty yards in the rear, and there 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 57 

lay Bob McKim, of Baltimore, another member 
of the company, shot through the head and dy- 
ing. Also my messmate, Wash. Stuart, who had 
recently joined the battery. A ball had struck 
him just below the cheek-bone, and, passing 
through the mouth, came out on the opposite 
side of his face, breaking out most of his jaw- 
teeth. Then came my brother John with a 
stream of blood running from the top of his 
head, and, dividing at the forehead, trickled in 
all directions down his face. My brother David 
was also slightly wounded on the arm by a piece 
of shell. By this time the Louisianians had been 
"led up to where they could get at them," and 
gotten them on the run. I forgot to mention 
that, as one of our guns was being put into 
position, a gate-post interfered. Captain 
Poague ordered John Agnor to cut the post 
down with an axe. Agnor said, " Captain, I 
will be killed !" Poague replied, "Do your 
duty, John." He had scarcely struck three 
blows before he fell dead, pierced by a Minie- 
ball. 

In this battle, known as First Winchester, two 
of the battery were killed and twelve or four- 
teen wounded. The fighting was soon over and 
became a chase. My gun being hors de combat, 
I remained awhile with the wounded, so did not 
witness the first wild enthusiasm of the Win- 
chester people as our men drove the enemy 
through the streets, but heard that the ladies 
could not be kept indoors. Our battery did it- 
self credit on this occasion. I will quote from 



58 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Gen. Dick Taylor's book, entitled "Destruction 
and Reconstruction": "Jackson was on the 
pike and near him were several regiments lying 
down for shelter, as the fire from the ridge was 
heavy and searching. A Virginian battery, the 
Rockbridge Artillery, was fighting at great dis- 
advantage, and already much cut up. Poetic 
authority asserts that 'Old Virginny never 
tires,' and the conduct of this battery justified 
the assertion of the muses. "With scarce a leg 
or wheel for man and horse, gun or caisson, to 
stand on, it continued to hammer away at the 
crushing fire above." And further on in the 
same narrative he says, i ' Meanwhile, the Bock- 
bridge Battery held on manfully and engaged 
the enemy's attention." Dr. Dabney's "Life 
of Stonewall Jackson," page 377, says: "Just 
at this moment General Jackson rode forward, 
followed by two field-officers, to the very crest 
of the hill, and, amidst a perfect shower of 
balls, reconnoitred the whole position. . . . 
He saw them posting another battery, with 
which they hoped to enfilade the ground occu- 
pied by the guns of Poague; and nearer to his 
left front a body of riflemen were just seizing 
a position behind a stone fence when they 
poured a galling fire upon the gunners and 
struck down many men and horses. Here this 
gallant battery stood its ground, sometimes al- 
most silenced, yet never yielding an inch. After 
a time they changed their front to the left, and 
while a part of their guns replied to the oppos- 
ing battery the remainder shattered the stone 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 59 

fence, which sheltered the Federal infantry, 
with solid shot and raked it with canister." 

In one of the hospitals I saw Jim ("Red") 
Jordan, an old schoolmate and member of the 
Alleghany Roughs, with his arm and shoulder 
horribly mangled by a shell. He had beautiful 
brown eyes, and, as I came into the room where 
he lay tossing on his bed, he opened them for a 
moment and called my name, but again fell back 
delirious, and soon afterward died. 

The chase was now over, and the town full of 
soldiers and officers, especially the latter. I was 
invited by John Williams, better known as 
"Johnny." to spend the night at his home, a 
home renowned even in hospitable Winchester 
for its hospitality. He had many more intimate 
friends than I, and the house was full. Still I 
thought I received more attention and kindness 
than even the officers. I was given a choice 
room all to myself, and never shall I forget the 
impression made by the sight of that clean, 
snow-white bed, the first I had seen since taking 
up arms for my country, which already seemed 
to me a lifetime. I thought I must lie awake 
awhile, in order to take in the situation, then 
go gradually to sleep, realizing that to no rude 
alarm was I to hearken, and once or twice dur- 
ing the night to wake up and realize it again. 
But, alas ! my plans were all to no purpose ; for, 
after the continual marching and the vigils of 
the previous night, I was asleep the moment my 
head touched the pillow, nor moved a muscle till 
breakfast was announced next morning. 



CHAPTER VI 

CAPTURING FEDERAL CAVALRY CHARLESTOWN 

EXTRAORDINARY MARCH 

After camping for a day or two about three 
miles below Winchester we marched again to- 
ward Harper 's Ferry, thirty miles below. Four 
of the six guns of the battery were sent in ad- 
vance with the infantry of the brigade; the 
other two guns, to one of which I belonged, 
coming on leisurely in the rear. As we ap- 
proached Charlestown, seated on the limbers 
and caissons, we saw three or four of our cav- 
alrymen coming at full speed along a road on 
our left, which joined the road we were on, mak- 
ing an acute angle at the end of the main street. 
They announced "Yankee cavalry " as they 
passed and disappeared into the town. In a mo- 
ment the Federals were within one hundred 
yards of us. We had no officer, except Sergeant 
Jordan, but we needed none. Instantly every 
man was on his feet, the guns unlimbered, and, 
by the time the muzzles were in the right direc- 
tion, No. 5 handed me a charge of canister, No. 1 
standing ready to ram. Before I put the charge 
into the gun the enemy had come to a halt with- 
in eighty yards of us, and their commanding 

60 




Edward A. Moore 

(March, 1862) 



facing 60 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 61 

officer drew and waved a white handkerchief. 
We, afraid to leave onr gnns lest they should 
escape or turn the tables on ns, after some time 
prevailed on onr straggling cavalry, who had 
halted around the turn, to ride forward and take 
them. There were seventeen Federals, well- 
mounted and equipped. Our cavalry claimed all 
the spoils, and I heard afterward most of the 
credit, too. We got four of the horses, one of 
which, under various sergeants and corporals, 
and by the name of " Fizzle, ' ? became quite a 
celebrity. 

Delighted with our success and gallantry, we 
again mounted our caissons and entered the 
town at a trot. The people had been under 
Northern rule for a long time, and were rejoiced 
to greet their friends. I heard a very old lady 
say to a little girl, as we drove by, i ' Oh, dear ! if 
your father was just here, to see this!" The 
young ladies were standing on the sides of the 
streets, and, as our guns rattled by, would 
reach out to hand us some of the dainties from 
their baskets; but we had had plenty, so they 
could not reach far enough. The excitement 
over, we went into camp in a pretty piece of 
woods two miles below the town and six from 
Harper's Ferry. Here we spent several days 
pleasantly. 

Mayor Middleton, of our town, Lexington, 
had followed us with a wagonload of boxes of 
edibles from home. So many of the company 
had been wounded or left behind that the rest 
of us had a double share. Gregory's box, which 



62 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Middleton brought from the railroad, contained 
a jar of delicious pickle. I had never relished 
it before, but camp-life had created a craving 
for it that seemed insatiable. The cows of the 
neighborhood seemed to have a curiosity to see 
us, and would stroll around the camp and stand 
kindly till a canteen could be filled with rich 
milk, which could soon be cooled in a convenient 
spring. Just outside of Charlestown lived the 
Bansons, who had formerly lived near Lexing- 
ton and were great friends of my father's fam- 
ily. I called to see them. Buck, the second son, 
was then about fifteen and chafing to go into the 
army. I took a clean shave with his razor, 
which he used daily to encourage his beard and 
shorten his stay in Jericho. He treated me to 
a flowing goblet of champagne and gave me a 
lead-colored knit jacket, with a blue border, in 
which I felt quite fine, and wore through the 
rest of the campaign. It was known in the mess 
as my "Josey." Buck eventually succeeded in 
getting in, and now bears the scars of three 
saber-cuts on his head. 

It was raining the day we broke camp and 
started toward Winchester, but our march was 
enlivened by the addition of a new recruit in 
the person of Steve Dandridge. He was about 
sixteen and had just come from the Virginia 
Military Institute, where he had been sent to be 
kept out of the army. He wore a cadet-cap 
which came well over the eyes and nose, and 
left a mass of brown, curly hair unprotected 
on the back of his head. His joy at being u mus- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 65 

tered in" was irrepressible. He had no ear for 
music, was really "too good-natured to strike 
a tune," but the songs he tried to sing would 
have made a ' ' dog laugh. ' ' Within an hour af- 
ter his arrival he was on intimate terms with 
everybody and knew and called us all by our 
first names. 

The march of this day was one of the noted 
ones of the war. Our battery traveled about 
thirty-five miles, and the infantry of the bri- 
gade, being camped within a mile of Harper's 
Ferry, made more than forty miles through 
rain and mud. The cause of this haste was soon 
revealed. General Fremont, with a large army, 
was moving rapidly from the north to cut us 
off, and was already nearer our base than we 
were, while General Shields, with another large 
force, was pushing from the southeast, having 
also the advantage of us in distance, and trying 
to unite with Fremont, and General McDowell 
with 20,000 men was at Fredericksburg. The 
roads on which the three armies were marching 
concentrated at Strasburg, and Jackson was the 
first to get there. Two of our guns were put in 
position on a fortified hill near the town, from 
which I could see the pickets of both the oppos- 
ing armies on their respective roads and num- 
bers of our stragglers still following on behind 
us, between the two. Many of our officers had 
collected around our guns with their field- 
glasses, and, at the suggestion of one of them, 
we fired a few rounds at the enemy's videttes 
"to hurry up our stragglers." 



m THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

The next day, when near the village of E din- 
burg, a squadron of our cavalry, under com- 
mand of General Munford, was badly stam- 
peded by a charge of Federal cavalry. Suddenly 
some of these men and horses without riders 
came dashing through our battery, apparently 
blind to objects in their front. One of our com- 
pany was knocked down by the knees of a flying 
horse, and, as the horse was making his next 
leap toward him, his bridle was seized by a 
driver and the horse almost doubled up and 
brought to a standstill. This was the only time 
I ever heard a field-officer upbraided by pri- 
vates; but one of the officers got ample abuse 
from us on that occasion. 

I had now again, since Winchester, been as- 
signed to a Parrrott gun, and it, with another, 
was ordered into position on the left of the 
road. The Federals soon opened on us with two 
guns occupying an unfavorable position consid- 
erably below us. The gunner of my piece was 
J. P. Smith, who afterward became an aide on 
General Jackson's staff, and was with him when 
he received his death-wound at Chancellor sville. 
One of the guns firing at us could not, for some 
time, be accurately located, owing to some small 
trees, etc., which intervened, so the other gun 
received most of our attention. Finally, I 
marked the hidden one exactly, beyond a small 
tree, from the puff of smoke when it fired. I 
then asked J. P., as we called him, to let me try 
a shot at it, to which he kindly assented. I got 
a first-rate aim and ordered ' ' Fire ! ' ' The ene- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 65 

my's gun did not fire again, though its compan- 
ion continued for some time. I have often 
wished to know what damage I did them. 

The confusion of the stampede being over, 
the line of march was quietly resumed for sev- 
eral miles, until we reached "The Narrows,' ' 
where we again went into position. I had taken 
a seat by the roadside and was chatting with a 
companion while the guns drove out into a field 
to prepare for action, and, as I could see the 
ground toward the enemy, I knew that I had 
ample time to get to my post before being 
needed. When getting out the accouterments the 
priming-wire- could not be found. I being No. 3 
was, of course, responsible for it. I heard Cap- 
tain Poague, on being informed who No. 3 was, 
shout, "Ned Moore, where is that priming- 
wire ?" I replied, "It is in the limber-chest 
where it belongs.' ' There were a good many 
people around, and I did not wish it to appear 
that I had misplaced my little priming-wire in 
the excitement of covering Stonewall's retreat. 
The captain yelled, as I thought unnecessarily, 
"It isn't there!" I, in the same tone, replied, 
" It is there, and I will get it ! " So off I hur- 
ried, and, to my delight, there it was in its 
proper place, and I brought it forth with no 
small flourish and triumph. 

After waiting here for a reasonable time, and 
no foe appearing, we followed on in rear of the 
column without further molestation or incident 
that I can now recall. We reached Harrison- 
burg after a few days' marching. 



CHAPTER VII 

GENERAL JACKSON NARROWLY ESCAPES BEING CAP- 
TURED AT PORT REPUBLIC CONTEST BETWEEN 

CONFEDERATES AND FEDERALS FOR BRIDGE OVER 
SHENANDOAH 

% 

The College company had as cook a very 
black negro boy named Pete, who through all 
this marching had carried, on a baggage-wagon, 
a small game rooster which he told me had 
whipped every chicken from Harrisonburg to 
Winchester and back again. At last he met de- 
feat, and Pete consigned him to the pot, saying, 
"No chicken dat kin be whipped shall go 
*-*■ -'long wid Jackson's headquarters. ' ' At Har- 
risonburg we turned to the left again, but this 
time obliquely, in the direction of Port Republic, 
twenty miles distant. We went into camp on 
Saturday evening, June 7, about one mile from 
Port Republic and on the north side of the Shen- 
andoah. Shields had kept his army on the south 
side of this stream and had been moving paral- 
lel with us during our retreat. Jackson's divi- 
sion was in advance. Instead of going into 
camp, I, with two messmates, Boiling and Wal- 
ter Packard, diverged to a log-house for supper. 
The. man of the house was quiet; his wife did 

66 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 67 

the talking, and a great deal of it. She flatly 
refused us a bite to eat, but, on stating the case 
to her, she consented to let us have some bread 
and milk. Seated around an unset dining-table 
we began divesting ourselves of our knapsacks. 
She said, ' l Just keep your baggage on ; you can 
eat a bite and go." We told her we could eat 
faster unharnessed. She sliced a loaf of bread 
as sad as beeswax, one she had had on hand for 
perhaps a week, and gave us each a bowl of 
sour milk, all the while reminding us to make 
our stay short. For the sake of "argument" 
we proposed to call around for breakfast. She 
scorned the idea, had "promised breakfast to 
fifty already. ' ' " Staying all night ? Not any. ' ' 
We said we could sleep in the yard and take 
our chances for breakfast. After yielding, inch 
by inch, she said we could sleep on the porch. 
"Well, I reckon you just as well come into the 
house," and showed us into a snug room con- 
taining two nice, clean beds, in one of which lay 
a little "nigger" about five years old, with her 
nappy head on a snow-white pillow. We took 
the floor and slept all night, and were roused 
next morning to partake of a first-rate break- 
fast. 

About eight or nine o'clock this Sunday 
morning we were taking our ease in and about 
camp, some having gone to the river to bathe, 
and the horses turned loose in the fields to 
graze. I was stretched at full length on the 
ground, when "bang!" went a Yankee cannon 
about a mile in our rear, toward Port Republic. 



68 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

We were up and astir instantly, fully realizing 
the situation. By lending my assistance to the 
drivers in catching and hitching up the horses, 
my gun was the first ready, and started imme- 
diately in the direction of the firing, with Cap- 
tain Poague in the lead, the other guns follow- 
ing on as they got ready. 

Three or four hundred yards brought us in 
full view of Port Eepublic, situated just across 
the river. Beyond, and to the left of the village, 
was a small body of woods ; below this, and ly- 
ing between the river and mountain, an open 
plain. We fired on several regiments of infan- 
try in the road parallel to and across the river, 
who soon began moving off to the left. The 
other guns of the battery, arriving on the scene 
one at a time, took position on our left and 
opened vigorously on the retreating infantry. 
My gun then moved forward and unlimbered 
close to a bridge about two hundred yards be- 
low the town, where we took position on a bluff 
in the bend of the river. We commenced firing 
at the enemy's cavalry as they emerged from 
the woods and crossed the open plain. One of 
our solid shots struck a horse and rider going 
at full gallop. The horse reared straight up, 
then down both fell in a common heap to rise 
no more. 

While in this position General Jackson, who 
had narrowly escaped being captured in his 
quarters in the town, came riding up to us. 
Soon after his arrival we saw a single piece of 
artillery pass by the lower end of the village, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 69 

and, turning to the right, drive quietly along 
the road toward the bridge. The men were 
dressed in blue, most of them having on blue 
overcoats ; still we were confident they were our 
own men, as three-fourths of us wore captured 
overcoats. General Jackson ordered, "Fire 
on that gun!" We said, "General, those are 
our men." The General repeated, "Fire on 
that gun!" Captain Poague said, "General, I 
know those are our men." (Poagne has since 
told me that he had, that morning, crossed the 
river and seen one of our batteries in camp near 
this place.) Then the General called, "Bring 
that gun over here," and repeated the order 
several times. We had seen, a short distance 
behind us, a regiment of our infantry, the Thir- 
ty-seventh Virginia. It was now marching in 
column very slowly toward us. In response to 
Jackson's order to "bring that gun over here," 
the Federals, for Federals they were, unlim- 
bered their gun and pointed it through the 
bridge. We tried to fire, but could not depress 
our gun sufficiently for a good aim. 

The front of the infantry regiment had now 
reached a point within twenty steps of us on 
our right, when the Federals turned their gun 
toward us and fired, killing the five men of the 
regiment at the front. The Federals then 
mounted their horses and limber, leaving their 
gun behind, and started off. The infantry, 
shocked by their warm reception, had not yet 
recovered. We called on them, over and over, 
to kill a horse as the enemy drove off. They 



70 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

soon began shooting, and, I thought, fired shots 
enough to kill a dozen horses ; bnt on the Feder- 
als went, right in front of ns, and not more than 
one hundred yards distant, accompanied by two 
officers on horseback. When near the town the 
horse of one officer received a shot and fell 
dead. The Thirty-seventh Virginia followed on 
in column through the bridge, its front having 
passed the deserted gun while its rear was pass- 
ing us. The men in the rear, mistaking the front 
of their own regiment for the enemy, opened 
fire on them, heedless of the shouts of their of- 
ficers and of the artillerymen as to what they 
were doing. I saw a little fellow stoop, and, 
resting his rifle on his knee, take a long aim and 
fire. Fortunately, they shot no better at their 
own men than they did at the enemy, as not a 
man was touched. Up to this time we had been 
absorbed in events immediately at hand, but, 
quiet being now restored, we heard cannonad- 
ing back toward Harrisonburg. Fremont had 
attacked Ewell at Cross Keys, about four miles 
from us. Soon the musketry was heard and the 
battle waxed warm. 

Eemaining in this position the greater por- 
tion of the day, we listened anxiously to learn 
from the increasing or lessening sound how the 
battle was going with Ewell, and turned our 
eyes constantly in the opposite direction, ex- 
pecting a renewal of the attack from Shields. 
Toward the middle of the afternoon the sound 
became more and more remote — Ewell had evi- 
dently won the day, which fact was later con- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 71 

firmed by couriers. We learned, too, of the 
death of General Ashby, which had occurred the 
preceding day. 



CHAPTEE VIII 

BATTLE OF POBT KEPUBLIC 

About sundown we crossed on the bridge, and 
our wagons joining us we went into bivouac. In 
times of this kind, when every one is tired, each 
has to depend on himself to prepare his meal. 
While I was considering how best and soonest 
I could get my supper cooked, Bob Lee hap- 
pened to stop at our fire, and said he would 
show me a first-rate plan. It was to mix flour 
and water together into a thin batter, then fry 
the grease out of bacon, take the meat out of 
the frying pan and pour the batter in, and then 
"just let her rip awhile over the fire." I found 
the receipt a good one and expeditious. 

About two miles below us, near the river, we 
could plainly see the enemy's camp-fires. Early 
next morning we were astir, and crossed the 
other fork of the river on an improvised bridge 
made of boards laid on the running-gear of 
wagons. 

We felt assured that Fremont and Shields 
had received ample satisfaction, and that we 
were done with them for the present at least. 
Still more were we of this opinion when the 
wagon-train took the Brown's Gap road leading 

72 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 73 

across the Blue Kidge, we expecting, of course, 
to follow. We did not follow, however, but took 
instead the route Shields 's forces had taken the 
day previous, along which lay the bodies of the 
men we had killed, their heads, with few excep- 
tions, being shot entirely off. 

Having gone about a mile, the enemy opened 
on us with artillery, their shells tearing by us 
with a most venomous whistle. Halted on the 
sides of the road, as we moved by, were the in- 
fantry of our brigade. Among them I recog- 
nized my old school-teacher, Alfonso Smith, who 
had just joined the army. I had many times 
quailed under his fierce eye and writhed under 
his birch rod. The strain to which he was sub- 
jected under these circumstances was doubly 
trying, waiting inactive for his first baptism of 
fire. His eye was restless as we passed; per- 
haps he had a presentiment, as he received his 
death-wound before the day was over. 

Again our two Parrott guns were ordered 
forward. Turning out of the road to the left, 
we unlimbered and commenced firing. The 
ground on which we stood was level and very 
soft, and, having no hand-spike, we had to move 
the trail of the gun by main force. The enemy 
very soon got our range, and more accurate 
shooting I was never subjected to. The other 
four guns of the battery now came up, and, 
passing along a small ravine about forty yards 
behind us, halted for a time nearby. We were 
hotly engaged, shells bursting close around and 
pelting us with soft dirt as they struck the 



74 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ground. Bob Lee came creeping up from his 
gun in the ravine, and called to me, ' ' Ned, that 
isn 't making batter-cakes, is it 1 ' ' The constant 
recoiling of our gun cut great furrows in the 
earth, which made it necessary to move several 
times to more solid ground. In these different 
positions which we occupied three of the ene- 
my's shells passed between the wheels and un- 
der the axle of our gun, bursting at the trail. 
One of them undermined the gunner's (Hen- 
ry's) footing and injured him so as to necessi- 
tate his leaving the field. Even the old Irish hero, 
Tom Martin, was demoralized, and, in dodging 
from a Yankee shell, was struck by the wheel 
of our gun in its recoil and rendered hors de 
combat. We had been kept in this position for 
two or three hours, while a flank movement 
was being made by Taylor's Louisiana Brigade 
and the Second Virginia Regiment through the 
brush at the foot of the mountain on our right. 
When it was thought that sufficient time had 
been allowed for them to make the detour, our 
whole line moved forward, the rest of the bat- 
tery several hundred yards to our left. When 
my gun moved up an eighth of a mile nearer 
to the enemy, they added two guns to the three 
occupying the site of an old coal-hearth at the 
foot of the rugged mountain, so that our gun 
had five to contend with for an hour longer. 

Graham Montgomery had become gunner in 
Henry's place, and proved a good one. He 
could not be hurried, and every time the smoke 
puffed from our gun their cannoneers slid right 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 75 

and left from the coal-hearth, then returning to 
their guns loaded and gave us a volley. As usual 
in such cases, our flanking party was longer in 
making their appearance than expected. The 
whole Federal line charged, and as they did so 
their ranks rapidly thinned, some hesitating to 
advance, while others were shot down in full 
view. Still they drove us back and captured 
one gun of our battery. Singleton, of my mess, 
was captured, and Lieut. Cole Davis, supposed 
to be mortally wounded, was left on the field. 
On getting back a short distance I found my- 
self utterly exhausted, my woolen clothes wet 
with perspiration. Having been too tired to get 
out of the way when the gun fired, my ear- 
drams kept up the vibrations for hours. Sleep 
soon overcame me, but still the battle rever- 
berated in my head. 

The Louisianians and the Second Virginia 
had gotten through the brush and driven the 
enemy from the field. I was roused, to join in 
the pursuit, and had the satisfaction of seeing 
the five cannon that had played on our gun 
standing silent on the coal-hearth, in our hands. 
There being no room in their rear, their cais- 
sons and limbers stood off to their right on a 
flat piece of heavily wooded ground. This was 
almost covered with dead horses. I think there 
must have been eighty or ninety on less than 
an acre; one I noticed standing almost upright, 
perfectly lifeless, supported by a fallen tree. 
Farther on we overtook one of our battery 
horses which we had captured from Banks two 



76 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

weeks before. Shields 's men then captured him 
from us, and we again from them. He had been 
wounded four times, but was still fit for service. 
Such a spectacle as we here witnessed and 
exultingly enjoyed possibly has no parallel. Af- 
ter a rapid retreat of more than one hundred 
miles, to escape from the clutches of three ar- 
mies hotly pursuing on flank and rear, one of 
which had outstripped us, we paused to contem- 
plate the situation. On the ground where we 
stood lay the dead and wounded of Shields 's 
army, with much of their artillery and many 
prisoners in our possession, while, crowning the 
hills in full view and with no means of crossing 
an intervening river, even should they venture 
to do so, stood another army — Fremont's — with 
flags flying. 



CHAPTER IX 

FROM BROWN'S GAP TO STAUNTON — FROM STAUN- 
TON TO RICHMOND — COLD HARBOR — GENERAL 
LEE VISITS HIS SON IN THE BATTERY 

I had exchanged my brother John as a bed- 
fellow for Walter Packard. Walter was a droll 
fellow, rather given to arguing, and had a way 
of enraging his adversary while he kept cool, 
and, when it suited, could put on great dignity. 
Immediately following our battery, as we 
worked our way along a by-road through the 
foothills toward Brown's Gap, was Gen. Dick 
Taylor at the head of his Louisiana Brigade. 
Walter had mounted and was riding on a cais- 
son, contrary to orders recently issued by Jack- 
son. Taylor ordered him to get down. Walter 
turned around, and, looking coolly at him, said, 
with his usual sang-froid, "Who are you, and 
what the devil have you to do with my riding 
on a caisson!" Taylor seemed astounded for a 
moment, and then opened on poor Walter with 
a volley of oaths that our champion swearer, 
Irish Emmett, would have envied. 

When we had gotten about half-way to the 
top of the mountain, I, with three others, was 
detailed to go back and bring Lieut. Cole Da- 

77 



78 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

vis from the field. We were too tired for any- 
thought but of ourselves, and retraced our steps, 
growling as we went. We had heard that Davis 
was mortally wounded, and was probably dead 
then. Suddenly, one hundred yards in front of 
us, we saw a man riding slowly toward us, sit- 
ting erect, with his plume flying. We said, 
"That's Davis or his ghost!" It was he, held 
on his horse by a man on each side. We walked 
on with him till dusk, but, finding he had as- 
sistants to spare, two of us overtook the bat- 
tery. Davis was shot through the body, and 
suffering dreadfully, able to move only in an 
upright posture. He entirely recovered, how- 
ever, and did gallant service until the close of 
the war. 

Still photographed on my memory is the ap- 
pearance of the body of one of the Second Vir- 
ginia Eegiment being hauled on our rear cais- 
son. His head had been shot off, and over the 
headless trunk was fastened a white handker- 
chief, which served as a sort of guide in the 
darkness. Weary of plodding thus, Graham 
Montgomery anfl I left the road, a short dis- 
tance from which we concluded to spend the 
night and be subject to no more orders. A 
drizzling rain was falling. Each having a gum- 
cloth, we spread one on the loose stones and 
the other over us, with our feet against a big 
tree, to keep from sliding down the mountain- 
side. We were soon asleep, and when we awoke 
next morning we had slid into a heap close 
against the tree. To give an idea of the ready 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 79 

access we had to the enemy's stores, I had been 
the possessor of nine gum-blankets within the 
past three weeks, and no such article as a gum- 
blanket was ever manufactured in the South. 
Any soldier carrying a Confederate canteen 
was at once recognized as a new recruit, as it 
required but a short time to secure one of su- 
perior quality from a dead foeman on a battle- 
field. 

Following the road up the mountain, we came 
across one of our guns which, by bad driving, 
had fallen over an embankment some forty feet. 
Two horses still hitched to it lay on their backs, 
one of which I recognized as Gregory's one- 
eyed dun which I had ridden foraging at 
Bridgewater. After my arrival on top of the 
mountain I was sent with a detail which re- 
covered the gun and the two horses, both alive. 
Dandridge and Adams were driving the team 
when the gun went over. They saved them- 
selves by jumping, and came near having a 
fight right there as to who was at fault, and for 
a long time afterward it was only necessary to 
refer to the matter to have a repetition of the 
quarrel. 

After a day or two we countermarched to- 
ward Port Eepublic and went into camp a mile 
from Weir's cave, where we spent several days. 
Thence toward Staunton and camped near the 
town. Here we were told that we were to have 
a month's rest in consideration of our long- 
continued marching and fighting. Best, indeed ! 
We lost the three days we might have had for 



80 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

rest while there, preparing our camp for a 
month of ease. During our stay here my father 
paid us a visit, having ridden from Lexington 
to see his three sons. After having gotten our- 
selves comfortable, orders came to pack up and 
be ready to move. I had carried in my knap- 
sack a pair of lady's shoes captured from 
Banks's plunder at Winchester. These I gave 
to a camp scavenger who came from the town 
for plunder. 

Little did we dream of the marching and 
fighting that were in store for us. Jackson, hav- 
ing vanquished three armies in the Valley, was 
now ordered to Richmond with his "bloody bri- 
gades." 

We left Staunton about the twentieth of June, 
crossed the Blue Ridge at Rockfish Gap, passed 
through Charlottesville 1 , and were choked, day 
after day, by the red dust of the Piedmont re- 
gion. In Louisa County we had rain and mud 
to contend with, thence through the low, flat 
lands of Hanover, bearing to the left after pass- 
ing Ashland. 

Our destination was now evident. The army 
around Richmond was waiting for Jackson to 
dislodge McClellan from the Chickahominy 
swamps, and our attack was to be made on his 
right flank. It seems that our powers of en- 
durance had been over-estimated or the distance 
miscalculated, as the initiatory battle at Me- 
chanics ville was fought by A. P. Hill without 
Jackson's aid. This was the first of the seven 




"*&&::' 



John M. Brown 

(War-time portrait) 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 81 

days' fighting around Richmond. We arrived 
in the neighborhood of Cold Harbor about two 
p. m. on June 27, and approached more and 
more nearly the preliminary cannonading, most 
of which was done by the enemy's guns. About 
three o'clock the musketry began, and soon 
thereafter the infantry of our brigade was 
halted in the road alongside of us, and, loading 
their guns, moved forward. 

In a short time the fighting became furious, 
done almost entirely on our side with small 
arms, as few positions could be found for artil- 
lery. For two or three hours the noise of the 
battle remained almost stationary, accentuated 
at intervals by the shouting of the combatants, 
as ground was lost or won. It was here that 
General Lee said to General Jackson, "That 
fire is very heavy! Do you think your men can 
stand it 1 " The reply was, " They can stand al- 
most anything; they can stand that!" We stood 
expecting every moment to be ordered in, as 
every effort was made by our officers to find a 
piece of open ground on which we could unlim- 
ber. By sundown the firing had gradually les- 
sened and was farther from us, and when night 
came on the enemy had been driven from their 
fortifications and quiet was restored. The loss 
on our side was fearful. Among the killed was 
my cousin, James Allen, colonel of the Second 
Virginia Regiment. 

While lying among the guns in park that 
night my rest was frequently disturbed by the 
antics of one of the battery horses suffering 



82 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

with an attack of ''blind staggers," and floun- 
dering around in the darkness among the sleep- 
ing men. 

Before leaving our place of bivouac the next 
morning, a visit from General Lee, attended by 
his full staff, to his son Eobert, gave us our 
first opportunity of seeing this grand man. The 
interview between father and son is described 
by the latter in his "Recollections and Letters 
of Gen. Eobert E. Lee," which I quote: 

"The day after the battle of Cold Harbor, 
during the 'Seven Days' fighting around Rich- 
mond, was the first time I met my father after 
I had joined General Jackson. The tremendous 
work Stonewall's men had performed, includ- 
ing the rapid march from the Valley of Vir- 
ginia, the short rations, the bad water, and the 
great heat, had begun to tell upon us, and I was 
pretty well worn out. On this particular morn- 
ing my battery had not moved from its bivouac 
ground of the previous night, but was parked 
in an open field, all ready waiting orders. Most 
of the men were lying down, many sleeping, my- 
self among the latter number. To get some 
shade and to be out of the way I had crawled 
under a caisson, and was busy making up many 
lost hours of rest. Suddenly I was rudely awak- 
ened by a comrade, prodding me with a sponge- 
staff as I had failed to be aroused by his call, 
and was told to get up and come out, that some 
one wished to see me. Half -a wake I staggered 
out, and found myself face to face with General 
Lee and his staff. Their fresh uniforms, bright 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 83 

equipments, and well-groomed horses con- 
trasted so forcibly with the war-worn appear- 
ance of our command that I was completely 
dazed. It took me a moment or two to realize 
what it all meant, but when I saw my father's 
loving eyes and smile it became clear to me that 
he had ridden by to see if I was safe and to 
ask how I was getting along. I remember well 
how curiously those with him gazed at me, and 
I am sure that it must have struck them as very 
odd that such a dirty, ragged, unkempt youth 
could have been the son of this grand-looking, 
victorious commander. 

"I was introduced recently to a gentleman, 
now living in Washington, who, when he found 
out my name, said he had met me once before 
and that it was on this occasion. At that time 
he was a member of the Tenth Virginia Infan- 
try, Jackson's division, and was camped near 
our battery. Seeing General Lee and staff ap- 
proach, he, with others, drew near to have a 
look at them, and witnessed the meeting be- 
tween father and son. He also said that he had 
often told of the incident as illustrating the pe- 
culiar composition of our army." 

As we moved on over the battlefield that 
morning, the number of slain on both sides was 
fully in proportion to the magnitude of the con- 
flict of the day preceding. In a piece of woods 
through which we passed, and through which 
the battle had surged back and forth, after care- 
ful observation I failed to find a tree the size 
of a man's body with less than a dozen bullet- 



84 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

marks on it within six feet of the ground, and 
many of them were scarred to the tops. Not 
even the small saplings had escaped, yet some 
of the men engaged had passed through the bat- 
tle untouched. I was with my messmate, Will- 
iam Boiling, when he here discovered and rec- 
ognized the dead body of his former school- 
teacher, Wood McDonald, of Winchester. 

On the 28th we crossed the Chickahominy on 
Grapevine Bridge, the long approaches to 
which were made of poles, thence across the 
York River Railroad at Savage Station. As 
we moved along, fighting was almost constantly 
heard in advance of us, and rumors were rife 
that the trap was so set as to capture the bulk 
of McClellan's army. Near White Oak Swamp 
we reached another battlefield, and, after night, 
went into bivouac among the enemy's dead. 
About ten o 'clock I, with several others, was de- 
tailed to go back with some wagons, to get a sup- 
ply of captured ammunition. For four or live 
miles we jolted over corduroy roads, loaded our 
wagons, and got back to the battery just before 
dawn of the following morning. Scarcely had 
I stretched myself on the ground when the bugle 
sounded reveille, and even those who had spent 
the night undisturbed were with difficulty 
aroused from sleep. I remember seeing Cap- 
tain Poague go to a prostrate form that did not 
respond to the summons, and call out, "Wake 
up, wake up ! ' ' But, seeing no sign of stirring, 
he used his foot to give it a shake, when he dis- 
covered he was trying to rouse a dead Yankee ! 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 85 

Having been on duty all night I was being left 
unmolested to the last moment, when Joe Sha- 
ner came to me, as usual, and very quietly rolled 
up my blanket with his, to be carried on his off- 
horse. This was the battlefield of White Oak 
Swamp, fought on June 30. Along the march 
from Cold Harbor we had passed several Fed- 
eral field-hospitals containing their sick, some 
of them in tents, some lying in bunks made of 
poles supported on upright forks. These and 
their old camps were infested with vermin — 
"war bugs," as we usually called them — which, 
with what we already had after two weeks of 
constant march, with neither time nor material 
for a change, made us exceedingly uncom- 
fortable. 



CHAPTER X 

GENERAL JACKSON COMPLIMENTS THE BATTERY 

MALVERN HILL MY VISIT TO RICHMOND 

On July 1 we passed near the battlefield 
known as Frazier's Farm, also fought on June 
30 by the divisions of Magruder, Longstreet, 
and others, and arrived early in the day in 
front of Malvern Hill. For a mile or more our 
road ran through a dense body of woods ex- 
tending to the high range of hills occupied by 
the enemy. At a point where another road 
crossed the one on which we had traveled, and 
where stood two old gate-posts, we were or- 
dered to mount the caissons and limbers and 
trot on toward the firing already begun. This 
order can be attributed to the reputation our 
battery had made, and is a matter of record, 
which I quote: "At Malvern Hill the battery 
was openly complimented by General Jackson 
in connection with Carpenter's battery. When 
Gen. D. H. Hill asked General Jackson if he 
could furnish him a battery which would hold 
a certain position, from which two or three bat- 
teries had been driven by the galling fire of the 
enemy, he said, 'Yes, two,' and called for Car- 
penter and Poague, and General Hill ordered 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 87 

Captain Poague to bring up his battery at 
once. ' ' 

Taking the road to the left, we soon emerged 
from the woods into a wheat-field, the grain 
standing in shocks. While seated on a caisson, 
driving down this road at a trot, I was suddenly 
seized with a presentiment that I was to be 
killed in this battle, the only time such a feeling 
came over me during the war. Finding myself 
becoming rapidly demoralized, I felt that, in 
order to avoid disgrace, I must get down from 
that seat and shake the wretched thing off. So 
down I jumped and took it afoot, alongside of 
the gun, as we passed down a little ravine which 
was being raked from end to end by the ene- 
my's shells. The diversion worked like a charm, 
for in two minutes the apprehension toned 
down to the normal proportions of " stage 
f right.' ' We were soon in position with our 
six guns ablaze. The enemy's batteries were 
posted on considerably higher ground, with 
three times as many guns and of heavier caliber 
than ours, which served us the same galling fire 
that had wrecked the batteries preceding us. 
After having been engaged for an hour, a bat- 
tery posted some two hundred yards to our left 
was stampeded and came by us under whip and 
spur, announcing, as they passed, that they 
were flanked by Federal cavalry. In the com- 
motion, some one in our battery called out that 
we had orders to withdraw, and, before it could 
be corrected, eight or ten of the company, join- 
ing in the rout, beat a retreat to the woods, for 



88 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

which they were afterward punished ; some be- 
ing assigned as drivers, and one or two gallant 
fellows having it ever afterward to dim their 
glory. We soon, however, recovered from the 
confusion, but with diminished numbers. I know 
that for a part of the time I filled the positions 
of 7, 5, and 2 at my gun, until a gallant little 
Keutenant named Day, of some general's staff, 
relieved me of part of the work. My brother 
John, working at the gun next to mine, received 
a painful shell-wound in the side and had to 
leave the field. His place was supplied by Dor- 
an, an Irishman, and in a few minutes Doran's 
arm was shattered by a shell, causing him to 
cry out most lustily. My brother David, short- 
ly after this, was disabled by a blow on his arm, 
and, at my solicitation, left the field. 

I would suggest to any young man when en- 
listing to select a company in which he has no 
near kindred. The concern as to one's own per- 
son affords sufficient entertainment, without be- 
ing kept in suspense as to who went down when 
a shell explodes in proximity to another mem- 
ber of the family. 

John Fuller, driver at the piece next on my 
right, was crouched down on his knees, with his 
head leaning forward, holding his horses. See- 
ing a large shell descending directly toward 
him, I called to him to look out ! When he raised 
his head, this shell was within five feet of him 
and grazed his back before entering the ground 
close behind him. He was severely shocked, and 
for some days unfit for duty. At the first bat- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 89 

tie of Fredericksburg, more than a year after 
this, while holding his horses and kneeling in 
the same posture, a shell descending in like man- 
ner struck him square on his head and passed 
down through the length of his body. A month 
after the battle I saw all that was left of his 
cap — the morocco vizor — lying on the ground 
where he was killed. 

Behind us, scattered over the wheat-field, 
were a number of loose artillery horses from 
the batteries that had been knocked out. Tak- 
ing advantage of the opportunity to get a meal, 
one of these stood eating quietly at a shock of 
wheat, when another horse came galloping to- 
ward him from the woods. When within about 
thirty yards of the animal feeding, a shell burst 
between the two. The approaching horse in- 
stantly wheeled, and was flying for the woods 
when another shell burst a few feet in front of 
him, turning him again to the field as before; 
the old warrior ate away at his shock, perfectly 
unconcerned. 

The firing on both sides, especially on ours, 
was now diminishing — and soon ceased. In this 
encounter ten or twelve members of the com- 
pany were wounded, and Frank Herndon, wheel 
driver at my caisson, was killed. After remain- 
ing quiet for a short time we were ordered back, 
and again found ourselves at the cross-roads, 
near the old gate-posts, which seemed to be the 
headquarters of Generals Lee, Jackson and 
D. H. Hill. 

John Brown, one of our company who had 



90 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

been detailed to care for the wounded, had 
taken a seat behind a large oak-tree in the edge 
of the woods near us. A thirty-two-pound shot 
struck the tree, and, passing through the center 
of it, took Brown's head entirely off. We spent 
several hours standing in the road, which was 
filled with artillery, and our generals were evi- 
dently at their wits' ends. Toward evening we 
moved farther back into the woods, where many 
regiments of our infantry were in bivouac. The 
enemy had now turned their fire in this direc- 
tion. Both that of their heavy field-pieces and 
gunboats, and enormous shells and solid shot, 
were constantly crashing through the timber, 
tearing off limbs and the tops of trees, which 
sometimes fell among the troops, maiming and 
killing men. 

After sundown a charge was made against 
the enemy's left, which was repulsed with ter- 
rible loss to our men. After this the enemy 
continued shelling the woods; in fact their 
whole front, until ten o'clock at night. Our bat- 
tery had moved back at least two miles and 
gone into park in a field, where, at short inter- 
vals, a large gunboat shell would burst over us, 
scattering pieces around, while the main part 
would whirr on, it seemed, indefinitely. 

The next day, the enemy having abandoned 
Malvern Hill during the night, we made a rapid 
start in pursuit toward Harrison's Landing, but 
suddenly came to a halt and countermarched to 
a place where several roads crossed, on all of 
which were columns of infantry and artillery. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 91 

During the remainder of the day the soldiers 
gave vent to their feelings by cheering the dif- 
ferent generals as they passed to and fro, Jack- 
son naturally receiving the lion's share. 

McClellan's army being now under cover of 
their gunboats, and gunboats being held in mor- 
tal terror by the Confederates, we began slowly 
to make our way out of this loathsome place, a 
place which I felt should be cheerfully given up 
to the Northerners, where they could inhale the 
poisonous vapors of the bogs, and prosecute the 
war in continuous battle with the mosquitoes 
and vermin. The water of the few sluggish 
streams, although transparent, was highly col- 
ored by the decaying vegetable matter and the 
roots of the juniper. For the first time in my 
life I was now out of sight of the mountains. I 
felt utterly lost, and found myself repeatedly 
rising on tip-toe and gazing for a view of them 
in the distance. Being very much worsted physi- 
cally by the campaign and malarial atmosphere, 
I was put on the sick-list, and given permission 
to go to Richmond to recuperate. 

My entrance into the city contrasted striking- 
ly with that of soldiers I had read of after a 
series of victories in battle. The portable forge 
belonging to our battery needed some repairs, 
which could be made at a foundry in Eichmond, 
and, as no other conveyance was available, I 
took passage on it. So I entered the city, the 
first I had ever visited, after dark, seated on a 
blacksmith-shop drawn by four mules. Not hav- 
ing received my eleven dollars a month for a 



92 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

long time, I could not pay a hotel-bill, so I 
climbed the fence into a wagon-yard, retired to 
bed in a horse-cart, and slept soundly till day- 
light. That morning I took breakfast with my 
cousin, Robert Barton, of the First Virginia 
Cavalry, at his boarding-house. After which, 
having gotten a sick furlough, he hurried to 
take the train, to go to his home, and left me 
feeling very forlorn. Thinking that I could fare 
no worse in camp than I would in the midst of 
the painful surroundings of a hospital, I re- 
turned in the afternoon to the battery. The ar- 
duous service undergone during the past three 
weeks, or rather three months, had left the men 
greatly depleted in health and vigor. Many 
were seriously sick, and those still on duty were 
more or less run-down. 



CHAPTER XI 

FROM RICHMOND TO GORDONSVILLE BATTLE OP 

CEDAR RUN DEATH OF GENERAL WINDER DE- 
SERTERS SHOT CROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK 

At the conclusion of this sojourn in camp, 
Jackson's command again took the march and 
toiled along the line of the Central Railroad 
toward Gordonsville. I, being sick, was given 
transportation by rail in a freight-car with a 
mixture of troops. A week was spent in Louisa 
County, in the celebrated Green Spring neigh- 
borhood, where we fared well. My old mess, 
numbering seventeen when I joined it, had by 
this time been greatly reduced. My brother 
John had gotten a discharge from the army, his 
office of commissioner of chancery exempting 
him. Gregory, Frank Preston and Stuart had 
been left in Winchester in the enemy 's lines se- 
verely wounded. Singleton had been captured 
at Port Republic, and others were off on sick- 
leave. My bedfellow, Walter Packard, had con- 
tracted fever in the Chickahominy swamps, 
from which he soon after died. He had been 
left at the house of a friend in Hanover Coun- 
ty, attended by his brother. In his delirium he 



94 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

impatiently rehearsed the names of his compan- 
ions, calling the roll of the company over and 
over. From Green Spring we marched to the 
neighborhood of Gordonsville, where we re- 
mained in camp until about the fifth or sixth of 
August. 

We now heard reports of the approach of the 
renowned General Pope with " headquarters in 
the saddle,' ' along the line of the old Orange 
and Alexandria Eailroad. On August 7, we 
moved out of camp, going in his direction. On 
the third day's march, being too unwell to foot 
it, I was riding in the ambulance. About noon 
indications in front showed that a battle was 
at hand. I was excused from duty, but was 
asked by the captain if I would assist in caring 
for the wounded. This I declined to do. About 
this time the battery was ordered forward, and, 
seeing my gun start off at a trot, I mounted and 
rode in with it. We had a long hill to descend, 
from the top of which could be seen and heard 
the cannonading in front. Then, entering an 
extensive body of woods, we passed by the bod- 
ies of four infantrymen lying side by side, hav- 
ing just been killed by a bursting shell. 

We took position in the road near the corner 
of an open field with our two Parrott guns and 
one gun of Carpenter 's battery, en echelon, with 
each gun's horses and limber off on its left 
among the trees. Both Capt. Joe Carpenter 
and his brother, John, who was his first lieuten- 
ant, were with this gun, as was their custom 
when any one of their guns went into action. We 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 95 

soon let the enemy know where we were, and 
they replied promptly, getting our range in a 
few rounds. 

General Winder, commander of our brigade, 
dismounted, and, in his shirt-sleeves, had taken 
his stand a few paces to the left of my gun and 
with his field-glass was intently observing the 
progress of the battle. We had been engaged 
less than fifteen minutes when Captain Carpen- 
ter was struck in the head by a piece of shell, 
from which, after lingering a few weeks, he 
died. Between my gun and limber, where Gen- 
eral Winder stood, was a constant stream of 
shells tearing through the trees and bursting 
close by. While the enemy's guns were chan- 
ging their position he gave some directions, 
which we could not hear for the surrounding 
noise. I, being nearest, turned and, walking to- 
ward him, asked what he had said. As he put 
his hand to his mouth to repeat the remark, a 
shell passed through his side and arm, tearing 
them fearfully. He fell straight back at full 
length, and lay quivering on the ground. He 
had issued strict orders that morning that no 
one, except those detailed for the purpose, 
should leave his post to carry off the wounded, 
in obedience to which I turned to the gun and 
went to work. He was soon carried off, how- 
ever, and died a few hours later. 

The next man struck was Major Snowdon An- 
drews, afterward colonel of artillery. WTiile 
standing near by us a shell burst as it passed 
him, tearing his clothes and wounding him se- 



96 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

verely. Though drawn to a stooping posture, he 
lived many years. Next I saw a ricocheting shell 
strike Captain Caskie, of Richmond, Virginia, 
on his seat, which knocked him eight or ten feet 
and his red cap some feet farther. He did not 
get straightened up until he had overtaken his 
cap on the opposite side of some bushes, through 
which they had both been propelled. Lieutenant 
Graham, of our battery, also received a painful, 
though not serious^ wound before the day was 
over. This proved to be a very dangerous place 
for officers, but not a private soldier was 
touched. 

By frequent firing during the campaign the 
vent of my gun had been burned to several 
times its proper size, so that at each discharge 
an excess of smoke gushed from it. After the 
captain's attention was called to it, it happened 
that a tree in front, but somewhat out of line, 
was cut off by a Federal shell just as our gun 
fired. Supposing the defect had caused a wild 
shot, we were ordered to take the gun to the 
rear, the other gun soon following. We got 
away at a fortunate time, as the Second Brigade 
of Jackson's division was flanked by the enemy 
and driven over the place a few minutes later. 
One company in the Twenty-first Virginia Regi- 
ment lost, in a few minutes, seventeen men kill- 
ed, besides those wounded. The flankers, how- 
ever, were soon attacked b}^ fresh troops, who 
drove them back and took a large number of 
prisoners, who walked and looked, as they pass- 
ed, as if they had done their best and had noth- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 97 

ing of which to be ashamed. By nightfall the 
whole of Pope 's army had been driven back, and 
we held the entire battlefield. This battle was 
called Cedar Run by the Confederates, and 
Slaughter's Mountain by the Federals. 

On the following day we retraced our steps 
and occupied an excellent camping-ground near 
Gordonsville, Shortly after our arrival, my 
brother David, who had been absent on sick- 
leave, returned from home, bringing a large 
mess-chest of delicious edibles, which we en- 
joyed immensely, having Willie Preston, from 
Lexington, who had just joined the College 
company, to dine with us. From a nearby corn- 
field we managed to supply ourselves with roast- 
ing ears, and the number a young Confederate 
could consume in a day would have been ample 
rations for a horse. 

While here we had visits from some of our 
former messmates. One of them, Frank Single- 
ton, after being captured at Port Republic had 
been taken to Fort Warren, where were in con- 
finement as prisoners members of the Mary- 
land legislature, Generals Pillow and Buckner, 
and others captured at Fort Donelson. Single- 
ton gave glowing accounts of the " to-do " that 
was made over him, he being the only repre- 
sentative from the army of Stonewall, whose 
fame was now filling the world. His presence 
even became known outside of prison-walls, and 
brought substantial tokens of esteem and sym- 
pathy. 

Gregory, who we supposed had received his 



98 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

death-wound at Winchester in May, after es- 
caping into our lines spent a day or two with 
us. Both, however, having gotten discharges, 
left us — Singleton to go to Kentucky, his native 
State, to raise a company of cavalry under 
Morgan, and Gregory to become captain of ord- 
nance. 

An extensive move was evidently now on foot, 
and about August 17th it began, proving to be by 
far the most eventful of that eventful year. On 
reaching the Rapidan, a few miles distant, we 
were ordered to leave all baggage we could not 
carry on our backs, and in that August weather 
we chose to make our burdens light. This was 
the last we saw of our baggage, as it was plun- 
dered and stolen by camp-followers and shirk- 
ers who stayed behind. 

Having recuperated somewhat during my stay 
in camp I had set out, with the battery, for the 
march, but a few days of hot sun soon weak- 
ened me again, so I had to be excused from 
duty, and remain with the wagons. Part of a 
day with them was sufficient, so I returned to 
the battery, sick or well. Soon after my re- 
turn, about sundown, Arthur Robinson, of Bal- 
timore, whom I had regarded as a sort of dude, 
brought me a cup of delicious tea and several 
lumps of cut loaf-sugar. Cut loaf-sugar ! What 
associations it awakened and how kindly I felt 
toward the donor ever afterward ! As I dropped 
each lump into the tea I could sympathize with 
an old lady in Rockbridge County, who eyed a 




Wiixiam M. Wiixson 

(Corporal) 



facing 98 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 99 

lump of it lovingly and said, "Before the war 
I used to buy that by the pound." 

On the following morning, August 18, Gen. 
J. E. B. Stuart came dashing into our camp 
bareheaded and, for him, very much excited. He 
had just narrowly escaped capture by a scout- 
ing-party of Federal cavalry at a house near 
Verdiersville, where he had passed the night. 
Leaving his hat, he mounted and leaped the 
fence with his horse. His adjutant, however, 
Major Fitzhugh, in possession of General Lee's 
instructions to General Stuart, was captured, 
and thus General Pope informed of the plan of 
campaign. Four days later General Stuart, 
with a large force of cavalry, having passed to 
the rear of the Federal army, captured, at Cat- 
lett's Station, General Pope's headquarters 
wagon with his official papers and personal ef- 
fects. As his plan of campaign was to be gov- 
erned by General Lee's movements, these pa- 
pers were not very reliable guides. 

Our stay in this bivouac was only thirty-six 
hours in duration, but another scene witnessed 
in the afternoon leaves an indelible impression. 
To escape the arduous service to which we had 
for some time been subjected, a few, probably 
eight or ten men, of Jackson's old division had 
deserted. Of these, three had been caught, one 
of whom was a member of the Stonewall Bri- 
gade, and they were sentenced by court-martial 
to be shot. As a warning to others, the whole 
division was mustered out to witness the pain- 
fully solemn spectacle. After marching in col- 



100 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

umn through intervening woods, with bands 
playing the dead march, we entered an exten- 
sive field. Here the three men, blindfolded, 
were directed to kneel in front of their open 
graves, and a platoon of twelve or fifteen men, 
half of them with their muskets loaded with 
ball, and half with blank cartridges (so that no 
man would feel that he had fired a fatal shot), 
at the word "Fire!" emptied their guns at 
close range. Then the whole division marched 
by within a few steps to view their lifeless 
bodies. 

Jackson's object now was to cross the Rappa- 
hannock, trying first one ford and then another. 
We spent most of the following day galloping 
to and fro, firing and being fired at. At one 
ford my gun crossed the river, but, as no sup- 
port followed it, although the rest of our bat- 
tery and Br ockenbr oughts Maryland Battery 
were close by, we soon recrossed. Rain during 
the afternoon and night made the river past 
fording, catching Early's brigade, which had 
crossed further up-stream, on the enemy's side. 
He was not pressed, however, and by the next 
afternoon the whole of Jackson's command had 
crossed the stream by the fords nearer its 
source, at Hinson's mill. Thence we traveled 
northwest through Little Washington, the coun- 
ty-seat of Rappahannock. Then to Flint Hill, 
at the base of the Blue Ridge. Then turned 
southeast into Fauquier County and through 
Warrenton, the prettiest town I had seen since 
leaving the Valley. We had made an extensive 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 101 

detour, and were no longer disturbed by Gen- 
eral Pope, who possibly thought Jackson was 
on his way to Ohio or New York, and a week 
later no doubt regretted that one of those dis- 
tant places had not been his destination. 

Before reaching Thoroughfare Gap we had 
the pleasure of a visit from Mr. Eobert Boiling, 
or rather found him waiting on the roadside to 
see his son, of our mess, having driven from 
his home in the neighborhood. His son had been 
left behind sick, but his messmates did full jus- 
tice to the bountiful supply of refreshments 
brought in the carriage for him. I remember, 
as we stood regaling ourselves, when some hun- 
gry infantryman would fall out of ranks, and 
ask to purchase a "wee bite," how delicately we 
would endeavor to "shoo" him off, without ap- 
pearing to the old gentleman as the natural 
heirs to what he had brought for his boy. 



CHAPTEE XII 

CAPTUEE OF RAILROAD TRAINS AT MANASSAS JUNC- 
TION BATTLE WITH TAYLOR 's NEW JERSEY 

BRIGADE — NIGHT MARCH BY LIGHT OF BURN- 
ING CARS 

Our halts and opportunities for rest had been 
and continued to be few and of short duration, 
traveling steadily on throughout the twenty- 
four hours. It has been many years since, but 
how vividly some scenes are recalled, others 
vague and the order of succession forgotten. 
After passing through Thoroughfare Gap we 
moved on toward Manassas Junction, arriving 
within a mile or two of the place shortly after 
dawn, when we came upon a sleepy Federal cav- 
alryman mounted on a fine young horse. Lieu- 
tenant Brown took him and his arms in charge 
and rode the horse for a few days, but, learn- 
ing that he had been taken from a farmer in 
the neighborhood, returned him to his owner. 
As we approached the Junction several cannon- 
shots warned us that some force of the enemy 
was there, but not General Pope, as we had left 
him many miles in our rear. 

In the regiment of our cavalry, acting as a 
vanguard, I had but two acquaintances — old 

102 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 103 

college-mates — and these were the only two 
members of the command I met. One of them 
gave me a loaf of baker's bread, the other pre- 
sented me with a handful of cigars, and they 
both informed us that they had made a big cap- 
ture, which we would soon see. The samples 
they had brought made us the more anxious. 
Arriving in sight of the place, we saw the tracks 
of both railroads closely covered for half a mile 
with the cars filled with army supplies of every 
description. The artillery that had been firing 
a short time before opened on us again, while 
we were preparing to help ourselves, but not 
before one of my messmates had secured a cup 
of molasses. With the help of this, my loaf of 
bread was soon devoured, and with a relish con- 
trasting very favorably with my sudden loss of 
appetite for the beans at Cedar Creek a few 
months before. On this occasion we managed 
to appease our hunger with very little interrup- 
tion from the flying shells. The firing, however, 
was at long range and soon ceased, and we re- 
sumed the march, saddened to part with so rich 
a booty and the opportunity to fill our stomachs 
and empty haversacks. 

As we moved quietly along with General 
Jackson and one or two of his staff riding at 
the front of the battery, there suddenly ap- 
peared, about a mile ahead of us, a line of 
bayonets glistening in the sunlight. As we 
halted I heard General Jackson and those about 
him questioning each other and speculating as 
to what troops they could be, whether friend or 



104 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

foe. Their bayonets were evidently too bright 
for our war-worn weapons, and the direction 
from which they came and, a little later, the 
color of their uniforms being distinguishable, no 
longer left room for doubt. It proved to be a 
brigade of New Jersey infantry commanded by 
General Taylor, who had just arrived by rail 
from Alexandria. Rodes's division was on our 
left and not three hundred yards distant. As 
the enemy advanced, Jackson ordered Rodes to 
halt. The Federal brigade came up on our right 
about one hundred and twenty-five yards from 
us, marching by companies in column. 

Jackson ordered us to fire on them with can- 
ister, which we did, and very rapidly, as they 
passed. Then, limbering up, we galloped again 
to their flank and repeated the operation ; mean- 
while, one of our batteries immediately in their 
front firing at them with shells. Jackson, who 
accompanied us, then drew a white handker- 
chief from his pocket, and, waving it up and 
down, ordered them to surrender, in response 
to which one of them raised his gun and fired 
deliberately at him. I heard the Minie as it 
whistled by him. After limbering up our guns 
for the third time to keep in close range, I 
turned to get my blanket, which I had left on 
the ground while engaged, and, as I ran to over- 
take the guns, found myself between Rodes's 
line, which had now advanced, and the Feder- 
als, in easy range of each other. I expected, of 
course, to be riddled with bullets, but neither 
side fired a shot. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 105 

The Federals moved on in perfect order, then 
suddenly broke and came back like a flock of 
sheep; and, most singular of all, Rodes's divi- 
sion was ordered back and let them pass, we 
still firing. All in all, it was a fine sample of a 
sham battle, as I saw none of them killed and 
heard there were very few, and the only shot 
they fired was the one at General Jackson. Af- 
ter crossing a ravine along which ran a creek, 
they had a hill to ascend which kept them still 
in full view, while we fired at them with shells 
and solid shot as they streamed along the paths. 
Maupin, a member of our detachment, picked 
up a canteen of whiskey which had been thrown 
aside in their flight. As it was the only liquid 
to which we had access on that hot August day, 
we each took a turn, and soon undertook to 
criticise our gunner's bad shooting, telling him 
among other things that if he would aim lower 
he would do more execution. 

After the enemy had disappeared from our 
sight, and the battery had gone into park, I bor- 
rowed Sergeant Dick Payne's horse to ride to 
the creek, over which the enemy had retreated, 
for a canteen of water. When within a few steps 
of the branch, I passed two artillerymen from 
another battery on foot, who were on the same 
errand, but none of us armed. We saw a Yan- 
kee infantryman a short distance off, hurrying 
along with gun on shoulder. We called to him 
to surrender, and, as I rode to get his gun, an- 
other one following came in sight. When I con- 
fronted him and ordered him to throw down his 



106 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

gun, he promptly obeyed. The gun, a brand- 
new one, was loaded, showing a bright cap un- 
der the hammer. The man was a German, and 
tried hard, in broken English, to explain, either 
how he had fallen behind, or to apologize for 
coming to tight us — I could not tell which. 

We now had full and undisturbed possession 
of Manassas Junction and of the long trains of 
captured cars, through the doors and openings 
of which could be seen the United States army 
supplies of all kinds and of the best quality. On 
a flat car there stood two new pieces of artillery 
made of a bronze-colored metal, and of a dif- 
ferent style from any we had yet seen. In our 
last battle, that of Slaughter's Mountain, we 
had noticed, for the first time, a singular noise 
made by some of the shells fired at us, and quite 
like the shrill note of a tree-frog on a big scale. 
Since then we had sometimes speculated as to 
what new engine of war we had to contend with. 
Here it was, and known as the three-inch rifled 
gun, a most accurate shooter, and later on much 
used by both Federals and Confederates. 

In view of the fact that almost all of the field 
artillery used by the Confederates was manu- 
factured in the North, a supply for both armies 
seemed to have been wisely provided in the 
number they turned out. Here we spent the re- 
mainder of the day, but not being allowed to 
plunder the cars did not have the satisfaction 
of replacing our worn-out garments with the 
new ones in sight. We were very willing to don 
the blue uniforms, but General Jackson thought 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 107 

otherwise. What we got to eat was also disap- 
pointing, and not of a kind to invigorate, con- 
sisting, as it did, of hard-tack, pickled oysters, 
and canned stuff generally. 

Darkness had scarcely fallen before we were 
again on the march, and before two miles had 
been traveled the surrounding country was il- 
luminated by the blazing cars and their con- 
tents, fired to prevent their falling again into 
the hands of their original owners. The entire 
night was spent marching through woods and 
fields, but in what direction we had no idea. Not- 
withstanding the strict orders to the contrary, 
two of our boys — Billy Bumpas and John Gibbs 
— had procured from a car about half a bushel 
of nice white sugar, put it in a sack-bag, and 
tied it securely, they thought, to the axle of a 
caisson. During the night either the bag 
stretched or the string slipped, letting a corner 
drag on the ground, which soon wore a hole. 
When daylight broke, the first thing that met 
their eager gaze was an empty bag dangling in 
the breeze and visions of a trail of white sugar 
mingling with the dust miles behind. Many 
times afterward, in winter quarters or during 
apple-dumpling season, have I heard them la- 
ment the loss of that sweetening. 

There are various scenes and incidents on the 
battlefield, in camp, and on the march which 
leave an indelible impression. Of these, among 
the most vivid to me is that of a column of men 
and horses at dawn of day, after having 
marched throughout the night. The weary ani- 



108 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

mals, with heads hanging and gaunt sides, put 
their feet to the ground as softly as if fearing 
to arouse their drowsy mates or give themselves 
a jar. A man looks some years older than on 
the preceding day, and his haggard face as if 
it had been unwashed for a week. Not yet ac- 
customed to the light, and thinking his counte- 
nance unobserved, as in the darkness, he makes 
no effort to assume an expression more cheer- 
ful than in keeping with his solemn feelings, 
and, when spoken to, his distressful attempt to 
smile serves only to emphasize the need of 
"sore labor's bath." Vanity, however, seems 
to prevent each one from seeing in his neigh- 
bor's visage a photograph of his own. But, with 
an hour of sunlight and a halt for breakfast 
with a draught of rare coffee, he stands a new 
creature. On the morning after our departure 
from Manassas Junction, having marched all 
night, we had a good illustration of this. 

About seven o'clock we came to a Federal 
wagon which had upset over a bank and was ly- 
ing, bottom upward, in a ditch below the road. 
Around it were boxes and packages of food, des- 
iccated vegetables red with tomatoes and yel- 
low with pumpkin. Here a timely halt was 
called. Across the ditch, near where we went 
into park, the infantry who had preceded us 
had carried from the overturned wagon a bar- 
rel of molasses with the head knocked out. 
Surging around it was a swarm of men with 
canteens, tin cups, and frying-pans — anything 
that would hold molasses. As each vessel was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 109 

filled by a dip into the barrel it was held aloft, 
to prevent its being knocked from the owner's 
grasp as he made his way out through the strug- 
gling mass ; and woe be to him that was hatless ! 
as the stream that trickled from above, over 
head and clothes, left him in a sorry plight. 



CHAPTEE XIII 

CIRCUITOUS NIGHT MARCH — FIRST DAY OF SECOND 
MANASSAS ARRIVAL OF LONGSTREET's CORPS 

Here we halted long enough for a hurried 
breakfast for men and horses. Sleep did not 
seem to enter into Jackson's calculations, or 
time was regarded as too precious to be allowed 
for it. We were on the move again by noon and 
approaching the scene of the battle of July, 
1861. This was on Thursday, August 26, 1862, 
and a battle was evidently to open at any mo- 
ment. In the absence of Henry, our gunner, who 
was sick and off duty, I was appointed to fill 
his place. And it was one of the few occasions, 
most probably the only one during the war, that 
I felt the slightest real desire to exclaim, with 
the Corporal at Waterloo, "Let the battle be- 
gin ! ' ' About two p. m. we went into position, 
but, before firing a shot, suddenly moved off, 
and, marching almost in a semi-circle, came 
up in the rear of the infantry, who were now 
hotly engaged. This was the beginning of the 
second battle of Manassas, during the first two 
days of which, and the day preceding, Jack- 
son 's command was in great suspense, and, with 
a wide-awake and active foe, would have been 

no 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON ill 

in great jeopardy. He was entirely in the rear 
of the Federal army, with only his own corps, 
while Longstreet had not yet passed through 
Thoroughfare Gap, a narrow defile miles away. 
The rapid and steady roll of the musketry, how- 
ever, indicated that there was no lack of con- 
fidence on the part of his men, though the line 
of battle had changed front and was now facing 
in the opposite direction from the one held a 
few hours before. Moving through a body of 
woods toward the firing-line we soon began 
meeting and passing the stream of wounded 
men making their way to the rear. And here 
our attention was again called to a singular and 
unaccountable fact, which was noticed and re- 
marked repeatedly throughout the war. It was 
that in one battle the large majority of the less 
serious wounds received were in the same por- 
tion of the body. In this case, fully three- 
fourths of the men we met were wounded in the 
left hand; in another battle the same propor- 
tion were wounded in the right hand; while in 
another the head was the attractive mark for 
flying bullets, and so on. I venture the asser- 
tion that every old soldier whose attention is 
called to it will verify the statement. 

The battle was of about two hours in dura- 
tion, and by sundown the firing had entirely 
ceased, the enemy being driven from the field, 
leaving their dead and wounded. The infantry 
of the Stonewall Brigade had been in the thick- 
est of it all and had suffered severe loss. 

Willie Preston, of the College company, less 



112 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

than eighteen years of age, a most attractive 
and promising youth, received a mortal wound. 
His dying messages were committed to Hngh 
White, the captain of his company, who, two 
days later, was himself instantly killed. /On the 
ground where some of the heaviest fighting took 
place there stood a neat log-house, -the home of 
a farmer 's family. From it they had, of course, 
hurriedly fled, leaving their cow and a half- 
grown colt in the yard. Both of these were 
killed. I saw, also on this field, a dead rabbit 
and a dead field-lark — innocent victims of man's 
brutality ! 

A quiet night followed, and, except for those 
of us who were on guard, the first unbroken rest 
we had had for almost a week. Next morning, 
after breakfasting leisurely, we went into posi- 
tion opposite the enemy, occupying a long range 
of hills too distant for serious damage. But, af- 
ter we had shelled each other for half an hour, 
one of our infantry regiments emerged from 
the woods a short distance to our right and 
stood in line of battle most needlessly exposed. 
In less than five minutes a shell burst among 
them, killing and wounding eleven men. This 
over, we moved to a haystack nearby, where 
our horses had more than one refreshing feed 
during lulls in the battle. It seemed, also, an 
attractive place for General Jackson, as he was 
seldom far from it till the close of the battle 
on the following day. 

An hour later, while engaged in another ar- 
tillery encounter, our detachment received a 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 113 

very peremptory and officious order from 
Major Shoemaker, commanding the artillery of 
the division. My friend and former messmate, 
W. G. Williamson, now a lieutenant of engi- 
neers, having no duty in that line to perform, 
had hunted us up, and, with his innate gallan- 
try, was serving as a cannoneer at the gun. Of- 
fended at Shoemaker's insolent and ostenta- 
tious manner, we answered him as he deserved. 
Furious at such impudence and insubordina- 
tion, he was almost ready to lop our heads off 
with his drawn sword, when Williamson in- 
formed him that he was a commissioned officer 
and would see him at the devil before he would 
submit to such uncalled-for interference. 

"If you are a commissioned officer," Shoe- 
maker replied, "why are you here, working at 
a gun!" 

"Because I had not been assigned to other 
duty," was Williamson's reply, "and I chose to 
come back, for the time being, with my old bat- 
tery. ' ' 

' ' Then I order you under arrest for your dis- 
respect to a superior officer!" said Shoemaker. 

The case was promptly reported to General 
Jackson, and Williamson as promptly released. 
The bombastic major had little idea that among 
the men he was so uselessly reprimanding was 
a son of General Lee, as well as Lieutenant 
Williamson, who was a nephew of Gen. Dick 
Garnett, who was later killed in Pickett 's charge 
at Gettysburg. This episode over, we again 
drove to the haystack. 



114 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

These repeated advances and attacks made by 
the enemy's artillery plainly showed that they 
realized that our situation was a hazardous one, 
of which we, too, were fully aware, and unless 
Longstreet should soon show up we felt that the 
whole of Pope's army would soon be upon us. 
While quietly awaiting developments, we heard 
the sound of a horse's hoofs, and, as a courier 
galloped up to General Jackson, to announce 
Longstreet 's approach, the cloud of red dust 
raised by his vanguard in the direction of 
Thoroughfare Gap assured us that he would 
soon be at hand. Before he reached the field, 
however, and while we were enjoying the sense 
of relief at his coming, one of the enemy's bat- 
teries had quietly and unobserved managed to 
get into one of the positions occupied by our 
battery during the morning. Their first volley, 
coming from such an unexpected quarter, cre- 
ated a great commotion. Instantly we galloped 
to their front and unlimbered our guns at close 
range. Other of our batteries fired a few shots, 
but soon ceased, all seeming intent on witness- 
ing a duel between the two batteries of four 
guns each. Their position was the more favor- 
able, as their limbers and caissons were behind 
the crest of the hill, while we were on level 
ground with ours fully exposed. Each man 
worked as if success depended on his individual 
exertions, while Captain Poague and Lieuten- 
ant Graham galloped back and forth among the 
guns, urging us to our best efforts. Our antago- 
nists got our range at once, and, with their 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 115 

twelve-pound Napoleon guns, poured in a rak- 
ing fire. One shell I noticed particularly as it 
burst, and waited a moment to observe its ef- 
fects as the fragments tore by. One of them 
struck Captain Poague's horse near the middle 
of the hip, tearing an ugly hole, from which 
there spurted a stream of blood the size of a 
man's wrist. To dismount before his horse fell 
required quick work, but the captain was equal 
to the occasion, Another shell robbed Henry 
Boteler of the seat of his trousers, but caused 
the shedding of no blood, and his narrow escape 
the shedding of no tears, although the loss was 
a serious one. Eugene Alexander, of Moore- 
field, had his thigh-bone broken and was inca- 
pacitated for service. Sergeant Henry Payne, a 
splendid man and an accomplished scholar, was 
struck by a solid shot just below the knee and 
his leg left hanging by shreds of flesh. An hour 
later, when being lifted into an ambulance, I 
heard him ask if his leg could not be saved, but 
in another hour he was dead. 

After an hour of spirited work, our antago- 
nists limbered up and hurried off, leaving us 
victors in the contest. Lieutenant Baxter Mc- 
Corkle galloped over to the place to see what 
execution we had done, and found several dead 
men, as many or more dead horses, and one of 
their caissons as evidences of good aim; and 
brought back with him a fine army-pistol left 
in the caisson. When the affair was over, I 
found myself exhausted and faint from over- 
exertion in the hot sun. Eemembering that my 



116 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

brother David had brought along a canteen of 
vinegar, gotten in the big capture of stores a 
few days before, and, thinking a swallow of it 
would revive me, I went to him and asked him 
to get it for me. Before I was done speaking, 
the world seemed to make a sudden revolution 
and turn black as I collapsed with it. My bro- 
ther, thinking I was shot, hurried for the vin- 
egar, but found the canteen, which hung at the 
rear of a caisson, entirely empty; it, too, hav- 
ing been struck by a piece of shell, and even the 
contents of the little canteen demanded by this 
insatiable plain. 



, 



CHAPTEE XIV 

THE SECOND BATTLE OF MANASSAS INCIDENTS AND 

SCENES ON THE BATTLEFIELD 

These encounters were the preludes to the 
great battle for which both sides were prepar- 
ing, almost two days having already been spent 
in maneuvering and feeling each other's lines. 
The afternoon, however, passed quietly with no 
further collisions worthy of mention. The fol- 
lowing day, Saturday, was full of excitement. 
It was the third and last of this protracted bat- 
tle, and the last for many a brave soldier in 
both armies. 

The shifting of troops began early, our bat- 
tery changing position several times during the 
forenoon. Neither army had buried its dead 
of the first day's battle. We held the ground 
on which were strewn the corpses of both Blue 
and Gray, in some places lying side by side. 
The hot August sun had parched the grass to 
a crisp, and it was frequently ignited by burst- 
ing shells. In this way the clothes of the dead 
were sometimes burned ofT, and the bodies par- 
tially roasted! Such spectacles made little or 
no impression at the time, and we moved to 
and fro over the field, scarcely heeding them, 

111 



118 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

About two o'clock we were ordered some dis- 
tance forward, to fire on a battery posted on a 
low ridge near a piece of woods. By skirting 
along a body of woods on our left, and screened 
by it, we came out in full view of this battery 
and on its right flank. My gun, being in front 
and the first seen by them, attracted their whole 
fire; but most of their shells passed over our 
heads and burst among the guns in our rear and 
among the trees. None of us was hurt, and in 
a few minutes all four of our guns were unlim- 
bered and opened on them most vigorously. In 
five or six rounds their guns ceased firing and 
were drawn by hand from the crest of the ridge 
entirely out of view and range. 

As we stood by our guns, highly satisfied with 
our prowess, General Jackson came riding up 
to the first detachment and said, "That was 
handsomely done, very handsomely done, ' ' then 
passed on to the other detachments and to each 
one addressed some complimentary remark. In 
half an hour we were again at our rendezvous, 
the haystack, and he at his headquarters, and 
all quiet. But this time it was the calm before 
the real storm. 

Across the open plains on which we stood, 
and some three hundred yards distant from us, 
was an extensive body of woods in which Long- 
street's corps had quietly formed in line of bat- 
tle. In front of this was open ground, sloping 
gently for one-fourth of a mile, and on its crest 
the enemy's line of battle. To our left another 
large body of woods extended toward our front, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 119 

and concealed the movements of both armies 
from view in that direction. General Jackson 
had dismounted from his horse and was sitting 
on the rail-fence, and ours and one or two other 
batteries were in bivouac close by, and all as 
calm and peaceful as if the armies were in their 
respective winter quarters, when a roar and 
crash of musketry that was almost deafening 
burst forth in the woods in our immediate front, 
and a shower of Minie-bullets whistled through 
the air, striking here and there about us. In- 
stantly everything was astir, with an occasional 
lamentation or cry of pain from some wounded 
man. General Jackson mounted his horse hur- 
riedly. The fighting soon became general 
throughout the lines, in portions of it terrific. 
General Pope, after two days of preparation, 
had advanced his lines and made the attack in- 
stead of receiving it, as our lines were on the 
eve of advancing. 

A projected but uncompleted railroad, with 
alternating cuts and embankments, afforded a 
splendid line of defense to our infantry on the 
left. The most continued and persistent fight- 
ing was where it began, on that portion of the 
line he]d by Jackson's old division. In the 
course of an hour the attack was repulsed and 
a counter-charge made, but, judging from the 
number of dead the enemy left on the field, and 
the rapidity of their pursuit, the Confederates 
met with but little resistance thereafter. 

An attack had been made on Longstreet's 
corps at the same time, which met with the same 



120 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ill success, and was followed by a counter- 
charge. I remember our noticing the high range 
of hills in front of Longstreet, completely com- 
manding, as it did, the intervening ground, and 
some one remarking, while the charge was in 
progress, that it seemed impossible to carry it. 
But the reserves who occupied this high ground 
made but little resistance, and, joining those 
who had been repulsed, all fled hurriedly from 
the field. As soon as the retreat of the Federal 
army began, active participation in the battle 
by the artillery ceased. We joined in the pur- 
suit, which was brought to a close soon after it 
began by approaching night. 

In crossing a field in the pursuit, a short dis- 
tance from our gun, I passed near a young in- 
fantryman lying entirely alone, with his thigh- 
bone broken by a Minie-bullet. He was in great 
distress of mind and body, and asked me most 
pleadingly to render him some assistance. If I 
could do nothing else, he begged that I should 
find his brother, who belonged to Johnston's 
battery, of Bedford County, Virginia. I told 
him I could not leave my gun, etc., which gave 
him little comfort; but he told me his name, 
which was Ferguson, and where his home was. 
Fortunately, however, I happened on Johnston's 
battery soon after, and sent his brother to him. 
I heard nothing further of him until ^ve years 
later — two years after the war — when I was on 
a visit to some relatives in Bedford County. As 
we started to church in Liberty one Sunday 
morning I recalled the incident and mentioned 




W. S. McCuntic 



FACING 120 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 121 

it to my aunt's family, and was informed that 
Ferguson was still alive, had been very recently 
married, and that I would probably see him that 
morning at church. And, sure enough, I was 
scarcely seated in church when he came limping 
in and took a seat near me. I recognized him 
at once, but, fearing he had not forgotten what 
he felt was cruel indifference in his desperate 
situation, did not renew our acquaintance. 

After parting with him on the battlefield and 
overtaking my gun, our route for a time was 
through the enemy's dead and wounded of the 
battle which took place two days before, who 
had been lying between the two armies, exposed 
to the hot sun since that time. While taking a 
more direct route, as the battery was winding 
around an ascent, my attention was called to a 
Federal soldier of enormous size lying on the 
ground. His head was almost as large as a half- 
bushel and his face a dark-blue color. I sup- 
posed, as a matter of course, that he was dead, 
and considered him a curiosity even as a dead 
man. But, while standing near him, wondering 
at the size of the monster, he began to move, 
and turned as if about to.rise to his feet. Think- 
ing he might succeed, I hurried on and joined 
my gun. 

Here we had a good opportunity of observing 
the marked and striking difference between the 
Federals and Confederates who remained un- 
buried for twenty- four hours or more after be- 
ing killed. While the Confederates underwent 
no perceptible change in color or otherwise, the 



122 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Federals, on the contrary, became mnch swol- 
len and discolored. This was, of course, attribu- 
table to the difference in their food and drink. 
And while some Confederates, no doubt for 
want of sufficient food, fell by the wayside on 
the march, the great majority of them, owing 
to their simple fare, could endure, and unques- 
tionably did endure, more hardship than the 
Federals who were overfed and accustomed to 
regular and full rations. 

Our following in the pursuit was a mere form, 
as the enemy had been driven by our infantry 
from all of their formidable positions, and 
night, as usual in such cases, had put a stop to 
further pursuit. As we countermarched, to find 
a suitable camping-ground, great care had to 
be taken in the darkness to avoid driving over 
the enemy's wounded who lay along the course 
of our route. I remember one of them espe- 
cially, in a narrow place, was very grateful to 
me for standing near him and cautioning the 
drivers as they passed by. 

On the next day, Sunday, August 31, after 
three days of occupation such as I have de- 
scribed, we were not averse to a Sabbath-day's 
rest, which also gave us the opportunity of re- 
viewing at leisure the events and results of our 
experience, and going over other portions of the 
battlefield. Looking to the right front, spread 
out in full view, was the sloping ground over 
which Longstreet had fought and driven his an- 
tagonists. , The extensive area presented the 
appearance of an immense flower-garden, the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 123 

prevailing blue thickly dotted with red, the color 
of the Federal Zouave uniform. In front of the 
railroad-cut, and not more than fifty yards from 
it, where Jackson's old division had been at- 
tacked, at least three-fourths of the men who 
made the charge had been killed, and lay in line 
as they had fallen. I looked over and exam- 
ined the ground carefully, and was confident 
that I could have walked a quarter of a mile in 
almost a straight line on their dead bodies with- 
out putting a foot on the ground. By such evi- 
dences as this, our minds had been entirely dis- 
abused of the idea that ' ' the Northerners would 
not fight.' ' 

It was near this scene of carnage that I also 
saw two hundred or more citizens whose credu- 
lity under General Pope's assurance had 
brought them from Washington and other cities 
to see "Jackson bagged," and enjoy a gala day. 
They were now under guard, as prisoners, and 
responded promptly to the authority of those 
who marched them by at a lively pace. This 
sample of gentlemen of leisure gave an idea of 
the material the North had in reserve, to be 
utilized, if need be, in future. 

During the three days— 28th, 29th and 30th— 
the official reports give the Federal losses as 
30,000, the Confederates as 8,000. On each of 
these days our town of Lexington had lost one 
of her most promising young men — Henry R. 
Payne, of our battery ; Hugh White, captain of 
the College company, and Willie Preston, a pri- 
vate in the same company, a noble young fellow 



124 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

who had had the fortitude and moral courage, 
at the request of President Junkin, to pull down 
the palmetto flag hoisted by the students over 
Washington College. We remained about Ma- 
nassas only long enough for the dead to be 
buried. 

The suffering of the wounded for want of at- 
tention, bad enough at best, in this case must 
have been extraordinary. The aggregate of 
wounded of the two armies, Confederate and 
Federal, exceeded 15,000 in number. The sur- 
rounding country had been devastated by war 
until it was practically a desert. The railroad 
bridges and tracks, extending from the Rapidan 
in Orange County to Fairfax, a distance of 
fifty miles, had been destroyed, so that it would 
require several weeks before the Confederates 
could reach the hospitals in Richmond and 
Charlottesville, and then in box-cars, over 
rough, improvised roads. Those of the Federal 
army were cut off in like manner from their 
hospitals in the North. In addition to all this, 
the surgeons and ambulances and their corps 
continued with their respective commands, to 
meet emergencies of like nature, to be repeated 
before the September moon had begun to wane. 



CHAPTER XV 

BATTLE OF CHANTILLY LEESBURG CROSSING THE 

POTOMAC 

After such prolonged marching and such a 
victory as the second Manassas we hoped for a 
rest so well earned; at any rate, we imagined 
that there was no enemy near inclined to give 
battle; but on Monday, September 1, we were 
again on the march, which continued far into 
the night, it being near daylight when we went 
into park. The latter part of the way I rode 
on a caisson, seated by a companion, and so en- 
tirely overcome with sleep as to be unable to 
keep my eyes open five seconds at a time, nod- 
ding from side to side over the wheels. My 
companion would rouse me and tell me of my 
danger, but shame, danger, and all were of no 
avail till, waking for the fortieth time, I found 
my hat was gone. I jumped down, went back a 
short distance, and found my old drab fur, of 
Lexington make, flat in the road, having been 
trampled over by several teams and gun- 
wheels. 

After a halt of a few hours we were again 
on the move, and soon found ourselves in Fair- 
fax County. About noon we passed by "Chan- 

125 



126 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

tilly," the home of my messmate, Wash. Stuart, 
whom we had left desperately wounded at Win- 
chester. The place, a beautiful country resi- 
dence, was deserted now. Stuart, though, was 
somewhere in the neighborhood, a paroled pris- 
oner, and on his return to us the following win- 
ter told us of the efforts he had made to find us 
near "The Plains" with a feast of wines, etc., 
for our refreshment. Two or three miles from 
Chantilly short and frequent halts and cautious 
advances warned us that there were breakers 
ahead. Then the pop, pop, pop ! of a skirmish- 
line along the edge of a wood in our front 
brought back again those nervous pulsations in 
the region of the stomach which no amount of 
philosophy or will-power seemed able to re- 
press. 

The battery kept straight on in the road and 
through the woods, the enemy's skirmishers 
having fallen back to our right. We halted 
where the road began to descend, waiting until 
a place suitable for action could be found. Up 
to this time there was only infantry skirmish- 
ing, not a cannon having been fired on either 
side, when, as we stood quietly by our guns, a 
Federal shell burst in our midst with a tre- 
mendous crash. None of us heard the report of 
the gun that sent it, or knew from what direc- 
tion it came, but the accuracy with which we 
had been located in the dense forest was not 
comforting. 

Soon after this, our attention was attracted 
by the approach, along the road in our front, of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 121 

ten or twelve horsemen, riding leisurely toward 
us, one of whom bore a banner of unusually 
large size. As they passed, the most conspicu- 
ous figure in the party was a Federal officer in 
new uniform, and several other prisoners, es- 
corted by a guard of our cavalry. The banner 
was the flag of New York State, with the field 
of white satin emblazoned with the coat-of-arms 
of the Empire State, and all elaborately deco- 
rated witl flowing cords and tassels. 

After remaining here for an hour, and our 
officers finding no open ground for battle, and 
no enemy in sight except some videttes who 
saluted us with an occasional Minie-ball, we 
countermarched one-half mile in a drenching 
rain and went into park. Meanwhile, a brisk 
musketry fire had extended along the infantry 
lines, and soon after halting one of our battery 
horses fell dead, struck by one of their stray 
bullets. It was during this contest, in the pour- 
ing rain, that General Jackson, on receiving a 
message from a brigadier that his ammuni- 
tion was wet, and he feared he could not hold 
on, replied, "Tell him to hold his ground. If 
his guns will not go off, neither will the 
enemy's." 

Before the firing ceased, which continued 
through the twilight, Major-General Kearny, 
mistaking a line of Confederates for his own 
men, rode almost into their midst before dis- 
covering his error. He wheeled his horse, and, 
as he dashed off, leaning forward on the horse's 
neck, received a bullet in his back and fell dead 



128 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

upon the field. Next day his body was returned 
to his friends under flag of truce. 

From Ohantilly, or Ox Hill, as this battle 
was called by Confederates and Federals, re- 
spectively, we reached Leesburg, the county- 
seat, by a march of thirty miles due north into 
Loudoun County, and a mile or two east of this 
attractive town went into bivouac about sunset 
in a beautiful grassy meadow which afforded 
what seemed to us a downy couch, and to the 
horses luxuriant pasturage, recalling former 
and better days. Next morning, while lying 
sound asleep wrapped in my blanket, I became 
painfully conscious of a crushing weight on my 
foot. Opening my eyes, there stood a horse al- 
most over me, quietly cropping the grass, with 
one forefoot planted on one of mine. Having 
no weapon at hand, I motioned and yelled at 
him most lustily. Being the last foot put down, 
it was the last taken up, and, turning com- 
pletely around, he twisted the blanket around 
the calks of his shoe, stripped it entirely off of 
me, and dragged it some yards away. There 
being no stones nor other missiles available, I 
could only indulge in a storm of impotent rage, 
but, notwithstanding the trampling I had un- 
dergone, was able "to keep up with the pro- 
cession." 

The morning was a beautiful one, the sun hav- 
ing just risen in a clear sky above the mists 
overhanging and marking the course of the Po- 
tomac a mile to the east, and lighting up the 
peaks of the Blue Ridge to the west. The coun- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 129 

try and scenery were not unlike, and equal to 
the prettiest parts of the Valley. Circling and 
hovering overhead, calling and answering one 
another in their peculiarly plaintive notes, as if 
disturbed by our presence, were the gray plover, 
a bird I had never before seen. All in all, the 
environment was strikingly peaceful and beau- 
tiful, and suggestive of the wish that the Feder- 
als, whom we had literally whipped out of their 
boots and several other articles of attire, and 
who had now returned to their own country, 
would remain there, and allow us the same priv- 
ilege. 

But General Lee took a different view of it, 
and felt that the desired object would be more 
effectually accomplished by transferring the 
war into their own territory. So before noon we 
were again "trekking," and that, too, straight 
for the Potomac. Orders had again been issued 
forbidding the cannoneers riding on the cais- 
sons and limbers ; but, in crossing the Potomac 
that day, as the horses were in better shape and 
the ford smooth, Captain Poague gave us per- 
mission to mount and ride over dry-shod. For 
which breach of discipline he was put under ar- 
rest and for several days rode — solemn and 
downcast — in rear of the battery, with the firm 
resolve, no doubt, that it was the last act of 
charity of which he would be guilty during the 
war. Lieutenant Graham was in command. 



CHAPTER XVI 

MARYLAND MY DAY IN FREDERICK CITY 

We were now in Maryland, September 5, 
1862. From accounts generally, and more par- 
ticularly from the opinions expressed by the 
Maryland members of our battery, we were in 
eager anticipation of seeing the whole popula- 
tion rise to receive us with open arms, and our 
depleted ranks swelled by the younger men, im- 
patient for the opportunity to help to achieve 
Southern independence. The prospect of what 
was in store for us when we reached Baltimore, 
as pictured by our boys from that city, filled our 
minds with such eager yearnings that our impa- 
tience to rush in could scarcely be restrained. 
On the evening of our arrival within the borders 
of the State, with several companions, I took 
supper at the house of a Southern sympathizer, 
who said much to encourage our faith. 

In a day or two we were approaching Freder- 
ick City. Strict orders had been issued against 
foraging or leaving the ranks, but Steve Dan- 
dridge and I determined to take the bit in our 
teeth and endeavor to do the town for one day 
at all hazards. Knowing the officers and pro- 
vost-guards would be on the alert and hard to 

130 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 131 

evade after the town was reached, we conclud- 
ed, in order to be safe from their observation, 
to accomplish that part of onr plan beforehand. 
A field of corn half a mile from the city afford- 
ed us good cover till well out of sight. Then, by 
" taking judicious advantage of the shrubbery/ ' 
we made our way into a quiet part of the city, 
and, after scaling a few picket fences, came out 
into a cross-street remote from the line of 
march. Steve was the fortunate possessor of a 
few dollars in greenbacks, my holdings being of 
a like sum in Confederate scrip. 

As previously mentioned, our extra baggage 
— and extra meant all save that worn on our 
backs — had been left weeks before near the 
banks of the Eapidan, so that our apparel was 
now in sad plight. Dandridge had lost his little 
cadet-cap while on a night march, and supplied 
its place from the head of a dead Federal at 
Manassas, his hair still protruding freely, and 
burnt as "brown as a pretzel bun." The style 
of my hat was on the other extreme. It had 
been made to order by a substantial hatter in 
Lexington, enlisted, and served through the war 
on one head after another. It was a tall, drab- 
colored fur of conical shape, with several rows 
of holes punched around the crown for ventila- 
tion. I still wore the lead-colored knit jacket 
given me by "Buck" Eanson during the Banks 
campaign. This garment was adorned with a 
blue stripe near the edges, buttoned close at the 
throat, and came down well over the hips, fit- 
ting after the manner of a shirt. My trousers, 



132 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

issued by the Confederate Quartermaster De- 
partment, were fashioned in North Carolina, of 
a reddish-brown or brick-dust color, part wool 
and part cotton, elaborate in dimensions about 
the hips and seat, but tapering and small at the 
feet, in imitation, as to shape and color, of those 
worn by Billy Wilson's Zouaves at first Manas- 
sas. This is an accurate description of our ap- 
parel. Among our fellow-soldiers it attracted 
no especial attention, as there were many others 
equally as striking. Very naturally, we were at 
first eyed with suspicion by the people we met, 
and when we inquired for a place to get refresh- 
ments were directed "down yonder"; in fact 
anywhere else than where we were. 

We soon found a nice little family grocery- 
store; that is, one kept by a family, including 
among others two very comely young women. 
Here we found O'Rourke, an Irishman of our 
company, who had a talent for nosing out good 
things — both solids and liquids. We were served 
with a good repast of native wine, bread, but- 
ter, etc. ; and, in case we should not have leisure 
for milder beverages, had a canteen filled with 
whiskey. 

While enjoying our agreeable cheer, a man 
about thirty years of age came in, he said, to 
make our acquaintance. He was quite a sharp- 
looking fellow, with small, keen black eyes, a 
' i glib ' ' tongue, and told us that he was an out- 
and-out rebel, proud to meet us and ready to 
oblige. Steve forthwith proposed, as evidence 
of his good-will, an exchange of headgear. He 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 133 

dilated eloquently on the historic value of his 
own cap, and, while it did not entirely suit him, 
exposed as he was to the weather, it would be 
becoming to a city gentleman, besides reviving 
the most pleasant associations as a souvenir; 
and, moreover, the hat the stranger wore was 
most suitable for a soldier and would do good 
service to the cause. At length the exchange 
was made and, Steve having donned the nice 
black hat, we took our leave. We had scarcely 
walked a square when our attention was at- 
tracted by the sound of rapid footsteps ap- 
proaching from the rear, and, turning, we saw 
our new and interesting acquaintance coming 
at a run. As he passed us, with a high bound 
he seized the hat from Dandridge's head, threw 
the cap on the pavement, and disappeared like 
a flash around the corner. 

While seated in a confectionery, enjoying a 
watermelon we had purchased at a nearby fruit- 
stand, a gentleman came in and insisted on pre- 
senting us with a bottle of blackberry brandy, 
which he recommended as an excellent tonic. 
We declined his offer, a little suspicious as to 
the nature of the liquor, but, as he accepted our 
invitation to partake of our melon, we com- 
promised by joining him in a drink of the 
brandy, and found it so palatable we regretted 
not having accepted his proposed present of the 
whole bottle. Here, with boyish delight, we laid 
in a supply of confectionery. 

Passing along the street soon after this, we 
were accosted by a venerable-looking gentle- 



134 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

man, who stopped us and inquired, very modest- 
ly, if there was any way in which he could be of 
service to us. We could suggest none. He then 
intimated that we might be a little short of cur- 
rent funds. We could not deny that our funds 
were somewhat short and not very current. He 
offered us some greenbacks, of which we ac- 
cepted a dollar, asking him to try one of our 
Confederate dollars instead, which he declined 
to do, but expressed the hope, in a very delicate 
way, that all of the Confederate soldiers would 
so conduct themselves as to show the Maryland- 
ers of Union proclivities what gentlemen they 
really were. 

Our next experience was rather trying, for 
me at least, as events will show. Dandridge re- 
membered that he had a lady friend in the city, 
and proposed that we hunt her up and pay a 
call. We discussed the subject, I thinking such 
assurance out of the question; but he said he 
knew her "like a book," that she had visited at 
"The Bower," his family home; would excuse 
our appearance, and be charmed to see us. He 
knew that, when in Frederick City, she visited 
at a Mr. Webster's, whose handsome residence 
we succeeded in locating, and were soon at the 
door. The bell was answered by a tall, dignified- 
looking gentleman of about forty-five years, 
with a full brown beard, who, standing in the 
half-open door, looked inquiringly as to the ob- 
ject of our visit. Dandridge asked if Miss 

was in. He replied she was, and waited as if 
inclined to ask, "What business is that of 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 135 

yours ? ' ' Dandridge cut the interview short by 
saying, "My name is Dandridge, and I wish to 
see her. Come in, Ned." "We walked in, and 
were asked to be seated in the hall. Presently 

Miss appeared. She seemed at first, and 

doubtless was, somewhat surprised. Dandridge, 
though, was perfectly natural and at ease, in- 
troduced me as if I were a general, and rattled 
away in his usual style. She informed him that 
another of his lady friends was in the house, 
and left us to bring her in. To me the situation 
was not of the kind I had been seeking and, ris- 
ing, I said, ' ' Steven, if you have time before the 
ladies return to manufacture a satisfactory ex- 
planation of my absence, do so ; otherwise, treat 
the matter as if you had come alone/' and I 
vanished. Dandridge was invited to remain to 
dinner, was sumptuously feasted and enter- 
tained by the host, and to my astonishment 
brought me a special invitation to return with 
him the following day and dine with the house- 
hold. Other engagements, however, prevented 
my going. 

About four p. m. I met Joe Shaner, of Lex- 
ington, and of our battery, on the street. His 
gun having met with some mishap the day pre- 
vious, had fallen behind, and had now just 
come up and passed through the town. Joe was 
wofully dejected, and deplored missing, as one 
would have imagined, the opportunity of his 
life — a day in such a city, teeming with all that 
was good. But little time now remained before 
evening roll-call, when each must give an ac- 



136 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

count of himself. He was hungry, tired, and 
warm, and I felt it my duty to comfort him as 
far as possible. I asked him how he would like 
a taste of whiskey. ''It's just what I need," 
was his quiet reply, and before I had time to 
get the strap off of my shoulder he dropped on 
one knee on the curb-stone and had my canteen 
upside down to his mouth, oblivious of those 
passing by. He had no money, but, being a 
messmate, I invested the remnant of my change 
for his benefit, but found it necessary to include 
a weighty watermelon, to make out his load to 
camp. 

The next acquaintance I met was George 
Bediuger, whom I found, clad a la mode, stand- 
ing in a hotel-door with an expression of calm 
satisfaction on his face. As I came up to him, 
carrying my recent purchases tied in a bandana 
handkerchief, and stood before him, he scanned 
me from head to foot, said not a word, but fell 
back with a roar of laughter. Gay, brilliant 
Bedinger, whose presence imparted an electric 
touch to those around him ; I shall ne 'er see his 
like again ! 

The sun was now setting ; camp was two miles 
away. Thither I set out, cheered by the assur- 
ance that, whatever punishment befell, I had 
had a day. Arriving there, my apprehensions 
were relieved, possibly because offenses of the 
kind were too numerous to be handled conveni- 
ently. About dusk that evening a free fight be- 
tween the members of our company and those of 
Raines's battery, of Lynchburg, was with diffi- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 137 

culty prevented by the officers of the companies, 
who rushed in with their sabers. The Alleghany 
Roughs, hearing the commotion, one of their 
men cried out, ' ' Old Rockbridge may need us ! 
Come on, boys, let's see them through!" And 
on they came. 

We spent two or three days in a clean, fresh 
camp in this fertile country, supplied with an 
abundance of what it afforded. At noon each 
day apple-dumplings could be seen dancing in 
the boiling camp-kettles, with some to spare for 
a visitor, provided he could furnish his own 
plate. 

On the tenth came orders "to hitch up," but 
to our surprise and disappointment we turned 
back in the direction from which we had come, 
instead of proceeding toward Baltimore and 
Washington, and the realization of our bright 
hopes. We crossed the Potomac at Williams- 
port, thirty miles northwest, but not dry-shod. 
Thence southwest into Jefferson County, West 
Virginia. 



CHAPTER XVII 

RETURN TO VIRGINIA — INVESTMENT AND CAPTURE 



At Harper's Ferry there was a considerable 
force of the enemy, which place was now evi- 
dently the object of the expedition, and which 
we approached soon after noon on the thir- 
teenth. After the usnal delays required in get- 
ting troops deployed, our battery was posted on 
an elevated ridge northwest of Bolivar Heights, 
the stronghold of the Federals, and confronting 
their bo]d array of guns directed toward us. 

We opened fire and were answered, but with- 
out apparent effect on either side. This was 
late in the afternoon, and night came on before 
anything was accomplished. The situation of 
Harper's Ferry is too well known to require 
description. Only by a view of its surround- 
ings from some adjacent eminence can one form 
an idea of its beauty. As we stood by our guns 
on the morning of the fifteenth we were aware 
of what had been in progress for the investment 
of the place, and now, that having been accom- 
plished, we awaited with interest the general as- 
sault that was soon to follow. 

Directly on the opposite side of Bolivar 

138 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 139 

Heights from where we stood was Loudoun, or 
Virginia Heights, the extreme north end of the 
Blue Ridge in Virginia, at the base of which 
flowed the Shenandoah River, and now held by 
our artillery, as were also Maryland Heights, 
across the Potomac, while various lines of in- 
fantry lay concealed along the banks of both 
rivers and intervening valleys, completely envel- 
oping the Federal position. 

The morning was still and clear, giving us a 
full view of the lines of the lofty mountains. 
Simultaneously the great circle of artillery 
opened, all firing to a common center, while the 
clouds of smoke, rolling up from the tops of the 
various mountains, and the thunder of the guns 
reverberating among them, gave the idea of so 
many volcanoes. 

The fire of the Federals in the unequal con- 
test made no perceptible impression, not even 
on the lines of infantry which had begun clos- 
ing in from all sides for the final charge. Be- 
fore they (the infantry) were within musket 
range, a horseman bearing a large piece of 
tent-cloth swept along the crest of Bolivar 
Heights. The doubtful color of the flag dis- 
played prevented an immediate cessation of the 
Confederate fire. It proved to be in token of 
surrender, but after its appearance T saw a shot 
from our second piece strike so near a horse- 
man riding at speed along the heights as to en- 
velop horse and rider in its smoke and dust. 

The whole affair, devoid, as it was, of or- 
dinary danger, was one of thrilling interest. 



140 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Our commanding position gave us a full view 
of the extensive and varied terrain, a thing of 
rare occurrence to other than general officers. 
In addition to this,, the fact that we had defeat- 
ed our antagonists, usually in superior num- 
bers, in battle after battle throughout a long 
campaign, tended to confirm us in the opinion 
that we could down them every time, and that 
the contest must, at no distant day, end in our 
favor. The number of troops surrendered was 
11,500, with seventy-three pieces of artillery, 
sufficient to supply our batteries for some time. 
It was comparatively a bloodless victory, 
though the commanding officer, Colonel Miles, 
was killed at the last moment, and the terms of 
surrender arranged by General White, who had 
fallen back to this place from Martinsburg. I 
saw their artillery as it was driven out and 
turned over to us, supplied with most excellent 
equipments, and horses sleek and fat. 

As some time would be consumed in handling 
the prisoners and the transfer of arms and 
stores, I set out in the afternoon for Charles- 
town, and, as usual, went to my friends — the 
Eansons. After a refreshing bath I donned a 
clean white shirt and a pair of light-checked 
trousers, and was ready to discuss the events of 
the campaign with General Lindsay Walker, 
who was also a guest of the house. About nine 
o'clock at night I was joined by Dandridge, who 
had been met in the town by his mother and sis- 
ters from "The Bower, ' ? and, with light hearts 




D. Gardixer Tyeer 



FACING 140 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 141 

and full haversacks, we set out for camp seven 
miles distant. 

The Eanson family has several times been 
mentioned in these pages, as their home was a 
place where, when hungry, I was fed and, when 
naked, clothed. The oldest son, Tom, now a law- 
yer in Staunton, Virginia, was my schoolfellow 
and classmate at college when a boy in Lexing- 
ton. After receiving a wound at Cross Keys in 
June, 1862, when a lieutenant in the Fifty-sec- 
ond Virginia Eegiment, which incapacitated 
him for further service in the infantry, he en- 
listed in the cavalry. By reason of his famil- 
iarity with the topography of the country about 
Harper's Ferry and the lower portion of the 
Valley, together with his indomitable pluck and 
steady nerve, he was often employed as a scout, 
and in this capacity frequently visited his home 
near Charlestown. The residence, situated, as 
it was, a quarter of a mile from and overlook- 
ing the town, was approached by a wide avenue 
leading by a gentle ascent to the front gate, 
which stood about seventy-five yards from the 
house. Owing to the commanding view thus af- 
forded, it was a favorite place for a Federal 
picket-post, so that, while a dangerous place for 
a rebel soldier to venture, it offered many facil- 
ities for obtaining valuable information. On one 
occasion young Hanson spent three days in this 
home while the Federal pickets were on constant 
watch day and night at the front gate opening 
into the lawn, and went in and out of the house 
at their convenience. Moreover, the negro ser- 



142 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

vants of the family knew of "Marse Tom's" 
presence, but looked and acted negro ignorance 
to perfection when catechised. 

When standing at a front window one after- 
noon Tom saw a lady friend of the family ap- 
proaching the house from the town. On reach- 
ing the front gate she, of course, was stopped 
by the sentinel and, after a parley, refused ad- 
mittance and required to retrace her steps. Two 
hours later, much to their surprise, she appear- 
ed in the family-room and sank down com- 
pletely exhausted, having entered the house by 
a rear door, which she had reached after mak- 
ing a detour of a mile or more to escape the 
vigilance of the videttes in front. After recov- 
ering breath she unburdened herself of her 
load, which consisted, in part, of a pair of long- 
legged cavalry boots, late issues of Northern 
newspapers, etc. This load she had carried sus- 
pended from her waist and concealed under the 
large hoop-skirt then worn by ladies. The news- 
papers and information of large bodies of Fed- 
eral troops being hurried by rail past Harper's 
Ferry were delivered by young Ranson to Gen- 
eral Lee on the following day. 

Throughout the preceding day, while occupied 
about Harper's Ferry, we heard heavy cannon- 
ading across the Maryland border, apparently 
eight or ten miles from us. This had increased 
in volume, and by sunset had evidently advanc- 
ed toward us, as the sound of musketry was dis- 
tinctly heard. It proved to be an attack on Gen. 
D. H. Hill's division and other commands occu- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 14S 

pying the South Mountain passes. After stub- 
born resistance the Confederates had been 
forced to yield. So on reaching camp toward 
midnight, after our visit to Charlestown. we 
were not surprised to find the battery prepar- 
ing to move. With scarcely an hour's delay we 
were again on the march, heading for Mary- 
land. We arrived at Shepherdstown before 
dawn, and while halting in the road for half an 
hour Henry Lewis, driver at my gun, overcome 
with sleep, fell sprawling from his horse, rous- 
ing those about him from a similar condition. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

INTO MARYLAND AGAIN BATTLE OP SHARPSBURG 

WOUNDED — RETURN TO WINCHESTER — HOME 

Half a mile below the town we forded the 
Potomac for the third time, and by the middle 
of the afternoon were on the outskirts of 
Sharpsburg, four miles from the river. On the 
opposite, or east, side of this village are Antie- 
tam creek and valley; a mile from the creek 
and parallel to it was a heavily wooded moun- 
tain. It is not my design to attempt a descrip- 
tion of the battle which was fought on this 
ground on the following day, generally conced- 
ed to have been the fiercest of the war, but only 
to mention what came under my observation or 
was especially associated therewith. 

The unusual activity and aggressiveness on 
the part of General McClellan, as evidenced by 
the fierce attacks made on our forces in the 
South Mountain passes for the two preceding 
days, were explained by his being in possession 
of General Lee's order to his subordinates. This 
order, or a copy of it, which contained direc- 
tions for the movements of the various portions 
of the Confederate army, including the invest- 
ment of Harper's Ferry, had been lost or dis- 

144 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 145 

posed of by some one in Frederick City, and 
when this place was occupied, on September 13, 
by the Federals, was delivered to General Mc- 
Clellan. Thus acquainted with the location and 
movements of each division of the Confederate 
army, which was scattered over a wide territory 
and separated by a river and rugged mountains, 
it seems surprising that with his army of 90,000 
men he should not have practically destroyed 
General Lee's army of 40,000. General Lee, 
however, was informed early on the morning of 
the fourteenth that a copy of his order had 
fallen into the hands of General McClellan. 

This was done by a citizen of Frederick City 
who happened to be present when General Mc- 
Clellan received it and heard him express satis- 
faction over such a stroke of luck. This citizen 
at once went to work to inform General Lee, 
which task he accomplished by passing through 
the Federal lines during the night and inform- 
ing General Stuart, who forthwith communi- 
cated it to General Lee, who lost no time in 
moving heaven and earth — the former by pray- 
er, we assume ; the latter by his authority over 
men — to meet the emergency. Results proved 
how wonderfully he succeeded. 

As we moved past the town we saw neither 
any of our troops nor those of the enemy, and 
heard no firing. Although there was complete 
absence of the usual prelude to battle, still the 
apprehension came over us that something se- 
rious in that line was not very remote, either in 
time or place. The commanders of both armies 



146 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

were conscious of the importance of the im- 
pending- contest, which perhaps explains the ex- 
treme caution they exercised. 

After passing through a piece of woodland, 
we entered a small field and came in distinct 
view of two blue lines of battle, drawn up one 
in rear of the other. On these we at once open- 
ed fire, and were answered very promptly by a 
Federal battery in the same quarter. While 
thus engaged we had a visitor in the person of 
a young fellow who had just been commissioned 
a lieutenant, having previously been an orderly 
at brigade headquarters. Feeling his newly 
acquired importance, he spurred his horse 
around among the grins, calling out, "Let 'em 
have it ! " and the like, until, seeing our disgust 
at his impertinent encouragement, and that we 
preferred a chance to let him have it, he de- 
parted. Our next visitor came in a different 
guise, and by a hint of another kind was quick- 
ly disposed of. He, a man of unusually large 
size, with sword dangling at his side, came 
bounding from our right at a full run. A large 
log a few steps in our rear was his goal as a 
place of safety, and over it he leaped and was 
instantly concealed behind it. He had scant time 
to adjust himself before the log was struck a 
crashing blow by a solid shot. He reappeared 
as part of the upheaval ; but, regaining his feet, 
broke for the woods with the speed of a quarter- 
horse, and a greater confidence in distance than 
in logs. 

It was now dark, and our range had been ac- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 147 

curately gotten. After each discharge of our 
opponent's guns, what appeared to be a harm- 
less spark of fire, immovable as a star, repeat- 
edly deceived us. It was the burning fuse in 
the head of the shell which, coming straight to- 
ward us, seemed stationary until the shell shot 
by or burst. Four young mules drawing our 
battery-forge were stampeded by these shells 
and ran off through the woods, thus affording 
Pleasants, our blacksmith, entertainment for the 
rest of the night. 

Firing ceased on both sides at about eight 
o'clock, and we passed through the woods to 
our left and went into park on the opposite side. 
Still feeling the comfort of my clean clothes, I 
enjoyed a quiet night's rest on the top of a cais- 
son, little heeding the gentle rain which fell on 
my face. Our bivouac was immediately by the 
"Straw-stacks," which have been so generally 
referred to as landmarks in this battle, and 
which were located in the open ground near the 
forest which extended to the Dunkard church. 
About seven o 'clock next morning, while stand- 
ing with horses hitched and awaiting orders, no 
engagement so far having taken place near us, 
a shell of great size burst with a terrific report. 
One fragment of it mortally wounded Sam 
Moore, a driver of my gun, while another piece 
cut off the forefoot of one of the horses in the 
team. We soon transferred his harness to an- 
other horse which we hitched in his stead and, 
as we went off at a trot, the crippled horse took 
his place close bv where he was accustomed to 



148 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

work, and kept alongside on three legs until his 
suffering was relieved by a bullet in the brain. 

We had moved, to get out of range of mis- 
siles, but the place to which we had just come 
was not an improvement. While standing with 
the gun in front turned in file at right angles 
to those following, a twenty-pound shell swept 
by the six drivers and their teams in the rear, 
just grazing them, then striking the ground, ri- 
cocheted almost between the forward driver 
and his saddle as he threw himself forward on 
the horse's neck. I mention this in contrast 
with an occurrence later in the day, when one 
shell killed or wounded all of the six horses in 
a team, together with their three drivers. 

Fighting along the line of four miles had be- 
come general — done on our side chiefly by in- 
fantry. Jackson's corps occupied the left with 
a thin line of men, and from it there was al- 
ready a stream of stragglers. Jackson, while 
sitting nearby on his horse, watching the battle, 
was approached by a lad of about thirteen 
years, who for some time had been one of his 
orderlies. He began talking in a very animated 
manner, pointing the while to different parts 
of the field. Jackson kept his eyes on the 
ground, but gave close attention to what was 
said. The boy was Charles Randolph, and soon 
after this became a cadet at the Virginia Mili- 
tary Institute, and at the battle of New Mar- 
ket was left on the field for dead. Fourteen 
years after the war, while visiting in a neigh- 
boring county, I was introduced to a Reverend 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 149 

Mr. Randolph, and, seeing the resemblance to 
the soldier-boy, I asked him about Sharpsburg, 
recalling the incident, and fonnd he was the 
lad. 

The straggling already mentioned continually 
increased, and seemed to give General Jackson 
great concern. He endeavored, with the aid of 
his staff officers who were present and the mem- 
bers of our company, to stop the men and turn 
them back, but without the least effect; claim- 
ing, as they did, the want of ammunition and 
the usual excuses. The marvel was, how those 
remaining in line could have withstood the tre- 
mendous odds against them; but, from accounts, 
the enemy suffered the same experience, and in 
a greater degree. Up to this time, with the ex- 
ception of a return of our battery to the Dun- 
kard church, where we had fought the evening 
before, we had done nothing. At about ten 
o'clock the indications were that if reinforce- 
ments could not be promptly had serious con- 
sequences would follow. But just after our re- 
turn from the church to General Jackson's place 
of observation we saw a long column of troops 
approaching from the left. This was McLaw's 
division of Longstreet's corps, which had just 
reached the field. Their coming was most op- 
portune, and but a short time elapsed before 
the comparative quiet was interrupted — first by 
volleys, followed by a continuous roar of battle. 

Our battery was now ordered to the left of 
our line, and on the way thither joined Raines's 
battery, of Lynchburg, and a battery of Louisi^ 



150 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

anians — eleven guns in all. Besides the ordinary 
number of guns accompanying infantry, we had 
to contend with about thirty 32-pounders on 
the high ground in the rear and entirely 
commanding that part of the field. In view of 
the superior odds against us, our orders were 
to hold our positions as long as possible, then 
to move to our left and occupy new ones. Why 
such instructions were given was soon explain- 
ed, as the ground over which we passed, and 
where we stopped to fire, was strewn with the 
dead horses and the wrecks of guns and cais- 
sons of the batteries which had preceded us. By 
the practice thus afforded, the Federal batteries 
had gotten a perfect range, and by the time our 
guns were unlimbered we were enveloped in the 
smoke and dust of bursting shells, and the air 
was alive with flying iron. At most of the po- 
sitions we occupied on this move it was the ex- 
ception when splinters and pieces of broken 
rails were not flying from the fences which 
stood in our front, hurled by shot and shell. 

Working in the lead of one of the Louisiana 
battery teams was a horse that frequently at- 
tracted my admiration. A rich blood-bay in col- 
or, with flowing black mane and tail, as he swept 
around in the various changes with wide, glow- 
ing nostrils and flecked with foam, in my eyes 
he came well up to the description of the war- 
horse whose "neck was clothed with thunder." 

Moving as we had been doing, toward the left 
of our line, we passed beyond that portion held 
by regular infantry commands into what was 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 151 

defended by a mere show of force when scarce- 
ly any existed. In charge of it was Gen. J. E. B. 
Stuart, who demonstrated on this occasion his 
ability to accomplish what it would seem im- 
possible for one man to do. With a few skele- 
ton regiments supplied with numerous flags 
which he posted to show over the crests of the 
ridges in our rear, as if there were men in pro- 
portion, he himself took command of a line of 
sharpshooters in our front. This skirmish-line 
was composed of stragglers he had gathered up, 
and whom he had transformed from a lot of 
shirkers into a band of heroes. With black 
plume floating, cheering and singing, back and 
forth along the line he swept. 

The Federals confronting us in the three blue 
lines could not have been less than 8,000 men, 
who, with their powerful artillery, should have 
utterly overwhelmed the scant numbers handled 
by Stuart. As the blue lines would start for- 
ward, calling to our artillery to pour in the 
shells again, he would urge on his sharpshoot- 
ers to meet them half-way. The failure of a 
strong force of Federals to advance farther is 
explained, no doubt, by the fact that two of their 
army corps and one division had suffered ter- 
ribly a short time before near the same ground. 

Colonel Allan states, in his "Army of North- 
ern Virginia, 1862/' page 409, "Of Hooker's 
and Mansfield's corps, and of Sedgwick's divi- 
sion, was nothing left available for further ope- 
rations"; and General Palfrey, the Northern 
historian, says, "In less time than it takes to 



152 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

tell it, the ground was strewn with the bodies 
of the dead and wounded, while the unwounded 
were moving off rapidly to the north.' ' (Pal- 
frey, "Antietam and Fredericksburg," page 
87.) 

While engaged in one of these artillery duels 
a thirty-two-pound shot tore by the gun and 
struck close by Henry Rader, a driver, who was 
lying on the ground, holding the lead-horses at 
the limber. The shell tore a trench alongside 
of him and hoisted him horizontally from the 
ground. As he staggered off, dazed by the 
shock, the horses swung around to run, when 
young R. E. Lee, Jr., with bare arms and face 
begrimed with powder, made a dash from the 
gun, seized the bridle of each of the leaders at 
the mouth, and brought them back into position 
before the dust had cleared away. 

In the constant changes from knoll to knoll, 
in accordance with orders to "move when the 
fire became too hot, ' ' some of the batteries with 
us withdrew, perhaps prematurely. In this way 
the Rockbridge guns were left to receive the 
whole of the enemy's fire. In just such a situa- 
tion as this, it not being to our liking, I asked 
Lieutenant Graham if we should pull out when 
the others did. Before he could answer the 
question a shell burst at our gun, from which 
an iron ball an inch in diameter struck me on 
the right thigh- joint, tearing and carrying the 
clothes in to the bone. I fell, paralyzed with ex- 
cruciating pain. Graham rode off, thinking I 
was killed, as he afterward told me. The pain 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 153 

soon subsided, and I was at first content to lie 
still; but, seeing the grass and earth around 
constantly torn up, and sometimes thrown on 
me, I made fruitless efforts to move. The strict 
orders against assisting the wounded prevented 
my being carried off until the firing had ceased, 
when I was taken back about fifty yards and my 
wound examined by two surgeons from the 
skeleton regiments, who treated me with the ut- 
most kindness, thinking, perhaps, from my 
clean white shirt, that I was an officer. An hour 
later my gun came by, and I was put on a cais- 
son and hauled around for an hour or two more. 

It was about this time that what was left of 
the battery was seen by General Lee, and the 
interview between him and his son took place. 
To give an idea of the condition of the battery, 
I quote from "Recollections and Letters of Gen- 
eral Lee," by R. E. Lee, Jr., page 77 : 

"As one of the Army of Northern Virginia I 
occasionally saw the Commander-in-Chief, or 
passed the headquarters close enough to recog- 
nize him and members of his staff; but a pri- 
vate soldier in Jackson's corps did not have 
much time during that campaign for visiting, 
and until the battle of Sharp sburg I had no op- 
portunity of speaking to him. On that occasion 
our battery had been severely handled, losing 
many men and horses. Having three guns dis- 
abled, we were ordered to withdraw and, while 
moving back, we passed General Lee and sev- 
eral of his staff grouped on a little knoll near 
the road. Having no definite orders where to 



154 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

go, our captain, seeing the commanding Gen- 
eral, halted us and rode over to get some in- 
structions. Some others and myself went along 
to see and hear. General Lee was dismounted 
with some of his staff around him, a courier 
holding his horse. Captain Poague, command- 
ing our battery, the Bockbridge Artillery, sa- 
luted, reported our condition, and asked for in- 
structions. The General listened patiently, look- 
ed at us, his eyes passing over me without any 
sign of recognition, and then ordered Captain 
Poague to take the most serviceable horses and 
men, man the uninjured gun, send the disabled 
part of his command back to refit, and report 
to the front for duty. As Poague turned to go, 
I went up to speak to my father. When he 
found out who I was he congratulated me on 
being well and unhurt. I then said, ' General, 
are you going to send us in again V 'Yes, my 
son,' he replied, with a smile, 'you all must do 
what you can to help drive these people back.' 
In a letter to Mrs. Lee, General Lee says, 'I 
have not laid eyes on Bob since I saw him in 
the battle of Sharpsburg, going in with a single 
gun of his, for the second time, after his com- 
pany had been withdrawn in consequence of 
three of its guns having been disabled. . . . ' 

Held by a companion on the caisson, as it 
was driven toward our right, jolting over the 
partly torn-down fences and exposed to far- 
reaching missiles, I had an opportunity of see- 
ing other portions of the battlefield. We stopped 
for a time on the ridge overlooking the village 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 155 

almost enveloped in the flames of burning build- 
ings, while flocks of terrified pigeons, driven 
hither and thither by the screaming and burst- 
ing shells, flew round and round in the clouds of 
smoke. In hearing, from beyond and to the left 
of the village, was the fighting at "Bloody 
Lane," a sunken road which was almost filled 
Avith the dead of both sides when the day closed. 
As was also that at "Burnside Bridge/' a mile 
southeast of the town, for the possession of 
which Burnside's corps and Toombs's Georgi- 
ans contended till late in the afternoon. I was 
not averse to leaving this scene when the dis- 
abled caisson proceeded, and reached the pike. 
A mile farther on I was deposited on the 
roadside, near the brigade field-hospital; and, 
completely exhausted, was carried into the yard 
of a neat brick cottage by two stalwart Alle- 
ghany Eoughs and laid beside their captain, 
John Carpenter. The place, inside and out, was 
filled with wounded men. Carpenter insisted on 
my taking the last of his two-ounce vial of whis- 
key, which wonderfully revived me. Upon in- 
quiry, he told me he had been shot through the 
knee by a piece of shell and that the surgeons 
wanted to amputate his leg, but, calling my at- 
tention to a pistol at his side, said, "You see 
that? It will not be taken off while I can pull 
a trigger." He entirely recovered, and led his 
battery into the next battle, where he was again 
severely wounded. That the history of the four 
Carpenter brothers of Alleghany County, Vir- 
ginia, has not been recorded is a misfortune. As 



156 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

already mentioned, Joe, the oldest, and captain 
of the Alleghany Rough Battery, was mortally 
wounded near us at Cedar Mountain. John, 
who succeeded him as captain, after being 
wounded at Sharp sburg, was again wounded at 
Fredericksburg in 1862, where he was twice car- 
ried from the field, and as often worked his way 
back to his gun. In Early's campaign in 1864 
he lost his right arm. In the same campaign 
his next younger brother, Ben, lieutenant in the 
same company, was shot through the lungs. The 
wounds of neither had healed when they receiv- 
ed news, at their home, of the surrender at Ap- 
pomattox. Mounting their horses, they set out 
for Gen. Joe Johnston's army in North Caro- 
lina, but. on arriving at Lexington, Virginia, 
heard of the surrender of that army. The 
fourth and youngest brother lost a leg near the 
close of the war. Like all true heroes, their 
modesty was as striking as their courage and 
patriotism. 

On the following day at our hospital the heap 
of amputated legs and arms increased in size 
until it became several feet in height, while the 
two armies lay face to face, like two exhausted 
monsters, each waiting for the other to strike. 

About sundown that afternoon I was put in 
an ambulance with S. R. Moore, of the College 
company, who was in a semi-conscious state, 
having been struck on the brow, the ball pass- 
ing out back of the ear. The distance to Shep- 
herdstown was only three miles, but the slow 
progress of innumerable trains of wagons and 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 157 

impedimenta generally, converging at the one 
ford of the Potomac, delayed our arrival until 
dawn the next morning. About sunrise we were 
carried into an old deserted frame house and 
assigned to the bare floor for beds. My brother 
David, whose gun had remained on picket duty 
on this side of the river, soon found me, and at 
once set about finding means to get me away. 
The only conveyance available was George 
Bedinger's mother's carriage, but my brother's 
horse — the same brute that had robbed me of 
my bedding at Leesburg — now refused to work. 

The booming of cannon and bursting of shells 
along the river at the lower end of the town ad- 
monished us that our stay in the desolate old 
house must be short, and, as brigade after bri- 
gade marched by the door, the apprehension 
that "they in whose wars I had borne my part" 
would soon "have all passed by," made me 
very wretched. As a last resort, T was lifted 
upon the back of this same obstreperous horse 
and, in great pain, rode to the battery, which 
was camped a short distance from the town. 

S. R. Moore was afterward taken to the 
Bedingers ' residence, where he remained in the 
enemy's lines until, with their permission, he 
was taken home by his father some weeks later. 

David Barton, a former member of our com- 
pany, but now in command of Cutshaw's bat- 
tery, kindly sent his ambulance, with instruc- 
tions that I be taken to his father's house in 
Winchester, which place, in company with a 
wounded man of his battery, I reached on the 



158 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

following day. At Mr. Barton's I found my 
cousin and theirs, Bobert Barton, of Bock- 
bridge, on sick-leave, and a Doctor Grammer, 
who dressed my wound; and, although unable 
to leave my bed, I intensely enjoyed the rest 
and kindness received in that hospitable home, 
which was repeatedly made desolate by the 
deaths of its gallant sons who fell in battle. 

Marshall, the eldest, and lieutenant in artil- 
lery, was killed on the outskirts of Winchester 
in May, 1862. David, the third son, whom I 
have just mentioned, was killed in December of 
the same year. Strother, the second son, lost a 
leg at Chancellorsville and died soon after the 
war; and Bandolph, the fourth son, captain on 
the staff of the Stonewall Brigade, and now a 
distinguished lawyer in Baltimore, was seven 
times wounded, while Bobert, a member of our 
battery, and a gallant soldier, was the only one 
of the five brothers in the service who survived 
the war unscathed. Our mutual cousin, Bobert 
Barton of the Bockbridge Cavalry, was shot 
through the lungs in Early's Valley campaign, 
and left within the enemy's lines, where, nursed 
by his sister, his life hung in the balance for 
many days. 

After a sojourn of a few days, leave to go 
home was given me by the department surgeon, 
and at four o'clock in the morning, with young 
Boiling, Barton and Beid serving as my 
crutches (on their way to the Virginia Military 
Institute), I was put in the stage-coach at the 
front door and driven to the hotel, where sev- 



^ ! iV..^:*... : :>5M/r,r:--* 




R. T. Barton 



FACING 158 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 159 

eral Baltimoreans, who were returning from 
Northern prisons, got in. One of them was es- 
pecially noticeable, as his face was much pitted 
by smallpox, and with his Confederate uniform 
he wore a wide-brimmed straw hat. They were 
a jolly set, and enlivened the journey no little. 
A square or two farther on, two wounded of- 
ficers came from a house at which we stopped, 
and in an authoritative manner demanded seats 
inside, all of which were occupied. They said 
they were officers in a celebrated command and 
expected corresponding consideration. The fel- 
low with the hat told them his party was just 
from Fort Delaware, where little distinction 
was paid to rank, but if they required exalted 
positions they ought to get on top of the coach. 
The officers said they were wounded and could 
not climb up. "I was wounded, too — mortally, " 
came from under the hat. After joking them 
sufficiently, the Baltimoreans kindly gave up 
their seats and mounted to the top. 

At the towns at which we stopped to change 
horses, the boys who collected around were en- 
tertained with wonderful stories by our friends 
from Baltimore. Just outside of one of these 
stopping-places we passed an old gentleman, 
probably refugeeing, who wore a tall beaver hat 
and rode a piebald pony. To the usual crowd 
of lads who had gathered around, they said they 
were going to give a show in the next town and 
wanted them all to come, would give them free 
tickets, and each a hatful of "goobers"; then 
pointing to the old gentleman on the spotted 



160 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

pony, who had now ridden up, said, "Ah, there 
is our clown ; he can give you full particulars. ' ' 
One hundred and thirty miles from the battle- 
field of Sharpsburg the dawn of the second day 
of our journey showed again the procession of 
wounded men, by whom we had been passing all 
night and who had bivouacked along the road as 
darkness overtook them. 

They were now astir, bathing each other's 
wounds. The distance from Winchester to 
Staunton is ninety-six miles, and the trip was 
made by our stage in twenty-six hours, with 
stops only long enough to change horses. 

From nine to ten o'clock in the night I was 
utterly exhausted, and felt that I could not go 
a mile farther alive; but rallied, and reached 
Staunton at six o'clock in the morning, having 
been twenty-six hours on the way. Here Sam 
Lyle and Joe Chester, of the College company, 
detailed as a provost-guard, cared for me until 
the next day, when another stage-ride of thirty- 
six miles brought me to Lexington and home. 
With the aid of a crutch I was soon able to get 
about, but four months passed before I was 
again fit for duty, and from the effects of the 
wound I am lame to this day. 

Since going into the service in March, 1862, 
six months before, I had been in nine pitched 
battles, about the same number of skirmishes, 
and had marched more than one thousand miles 
— and this, too, with no natural taste for war. 



CHAPTER XIX 

RETURN TO ARMY — IN WINTER-QUARTERS NEAR PORT 
ROYAL 

On December 13, 1862, the great first battle 
of Fredericksburg had been fought, in which 
four men — Montgomery, McCalpin, Fuller and 
Beard — in my detachment had been killed, and 
others wounded, while the second piece, stand- 
ing close by, did not lose a man. This section 
of the battery was posted in the flat, east of the 
railroad. As I was not present in this battle I 
will insert an account recently given me by Dr. 
Robert Frazer, a member of the detachment, 
who was severely wounded at the time : 

" First battle of Fredericksburg, December 
13, 1862.— We reached the field a little after 
sunrise, having come up during the night from 
Port Royal, where we had been engaging the 
enemy's gunboats. The first section, under 
Lieutenant Graham, went immediately into ac- 
tion in front of Hamilton's Crossing. 

"In conjunction with Stuart's horse artillery 
it was our mission to meet Burnside's move- 
ment against General Lee's right wing, resting 
on the Rappahannock. With the exception of 
brief intervals, to let the guns cool, we ceased 

161 



162 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

firing only once during the entire day, and this 
was to move about a hundred yards for a more 
effective position. Excepting the few minutes 
this occupied, our guns and limber-chests re- 
mained in the same position all day, the cais- 
sons plying steadily between the ordnance-train 
and the battle line, to keep up the stock of am- 
munition. I do not recall the number of casual- 
ties, but our losses were heavy. When we came 
to make the change of position mentioned above, 
more than half the horses were unable to take 
a single step. One of the drivers, Fuller, was 
]ying on the ground, his head toward the enemy 
A shell entered the crown of his head and ex 
ploded in his body ! Not long after this I heard 
some one calling me, and, looking back, I saw 
'Doc' Montgomery prostrate. I ran to him and, 
stooping at his side, began to examine his 
wound. ' There is nothing you can do for me, ' 
he said; 'I am mortally wounded, and can live 
but a little while. Take a message for my 
mother.' (His mother was a widow.) 'When 
the battle is over, write and tell her how I died 
— at my post — like a man — and ready to give 
my life for the cause. Now, Frazer, pray for 
me.' When the brief prayer was ended I re- 
sumed my place at the gun. It was about this 
time, I think, that Pelham came up and said, 
'Well, you men stand killing better than any I 
ever saw.' A little later, just after sunset, I 
received two severe wounds myself, one of them 
disabling my right arm for life; and so I had 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 163 

to commit brave ' DocV dying message for his 
mother to other hands." 

The third and fourth pieces, twenty-pound 
Parrott guns, were on the hill west of the rail- 
road, and there Lieutenant Baxter McCorkle, 
Eandolph Fairfax and Arthur Eobinson were 
killed, and Edward Alexander lost an arm. This 
section of the battery was exposed to a fire un- 
surpassed in fierceness during the war. The 
ground, when it arrived, was already strewn 
with dead horses and wrecked batteries, and 
two horses that were standing, with holes in 
their heads through which daylight could be 
seen, were instantly killed by other shots in- 
tended for our guns. 

Captain Poague told me since, that the orders 
General Jackson gave him as he came to the 
place were, "to fire on the enemy's artillery 
till it became too hot for him, and then to turn 
his guns on their infantry,' ' and that he, 
Poague, had stated this in his official report, 
and the chief of artillery of the corps, before 
forwarding the report, had asked him if he was 
sure that these were General Jackson's orders. 
He told him he was. The report was then en- 
dorsed and so forwarded. 

The scene, as described at the close of this 
battle near nightfall, was a melancholy one. As 
the two sections of the battery, which had sepa- 
rated and gone to different portions of the field 
in the morning — the one to the heights, the 
other to the plain — met again, on the caissons 
of each were borne the dead bodies of those of 



164 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

their number who had fallen, the wounded, and 
the harness stripped from the dead horses. The 
few horses that had survived, though scarcely 
able to drag the now empty ammunition-chests, 
were thus again burdened. 

After going into bivouac and the dead had 
been buried, to clear the ground for a renewal 
of the battle on the following day, the wagon- 
horses had to be brought into requisition. These 
were driven in pairs to the position on the bluff 
and, as lights would attract the fire of the ene- 
my, the dead horses had to be found in the dark- 
ness, and with chains dragged to the rear. The 
approach of the first instalment to a line of in- 
fantry, through which it had to pass and who 
were roused from sleep by the rattling of chains 
and the dragging of the ponderous bodies 
through brush and fallen timber, created no lit- 
tle excitement, and a wide berth was given the 
gruesome procession. By midnight the work 
had been accomplished. 

At dawn of the following day a fresh detach- 
ment of men and horses having been furnished 
by another battery for the fourth piece, our bat- 
tery again went into position. There it re- 
mained inactive throughout the day, while the 
enemy's dead within our lines were being bur- 
ied by their own men under flag of truce. On 
the night which followed, as the two armies lay 
under arms, confronting each other, a display 
of the aurora borealis, of surpassing splendor 
and beauty, was witnessed. At such times, from 
time immemorial, "shooting-stars," comets, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 165 

and the movements of the heavenly bodies have 
been observed with profoundest interest as 
presaging good or evil. On this occasion, with 
the deep impress of what had just been experi- 
enced and the apprehension of an even more de- 
termined conflict on the day next to dawn, it 
can readily be imagined that minds naturally 
prone to superstition were thrilled with emo- 
tions and conjectures aroused by the sight. At 
any rate, these "northern lights," reinforced 
by the memory of the fearful carnage so recent- 
ly suffered, seem to have been interpreted as a 
summons home — as the Northern hosts, like the 
shifting lights, had vanished from view when 
daylight appeared. 

In January, 1863, with William McClintic, of 
our company, I returned to the army, which 
was in winter-quarters near Guiney's Station 
in Caroline County. 

After arriving in a box-car at this station, 
about midnight, during a pouring rain, we found 
one section of the battery camped three miles 
from Port Royal. The other section, to which I 
belonged, was on picket twelve miles beyond — 
at Jack's Hill, overlooking Port Tobacco Bay. 
The section near Port Royal had comfortable 
winter-quarters on a hillside and was well shel- 
tered in pine woods ; and, as most of my mess 
were in this section, I was allowed to remain un- 
til the contents of my box brought from home 
were consumed. One night soon after my ar- 
rival, while making a visit to members of an- 
other mess, Abner Arnold, one of my hosts, 



166 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

pointing to a large, dark stain on the tarpaulin 
which served as the roof of their shanty, said, 
"Have yon any idea what discolored that 
place?" As I had not, he said, "That's your 
blood; that is the caisson-cover on which yon 
were hauled around at Sharpsburg — and neither 
rain nor snow can wash it out. ' ' 

The infantry of the Stonewall Brigade was in 
camp seven miles from us, toward the railroad. 
Having ridden there one morning for our mail, 
I met two men in one of their winter-quarters 
streets. One of them, wearing a citizen's over- 
coat, attracted my attention. Then, noticing the 
scars on his face, I recognized my former mess- 
mate, Wash. Stuart, on his return to the battery 
for the first time since his fearful wound at 
Winchester the preceding May. His compan- 
ion was Capt. Willie Randolph, of the Second 
Virginia Regiment, both of whom will be men- 
tioned later. 

The chief sport of the troops in their winter- 
quarters was snowballing, which was conducted 
on regular military principles. Two brigades 
would sometimes form in line of battle, com- 
manded by their officers, and pelt each other 
without mercy. In one such engagement a whole 
brigade was driven pell-mell through its camp, 
and their cooking utensils captured by their 
opponents. 

Once a week quite regularly an old negro man 
came to our camp with a wagon-load of fine 
oysters from Tappahannock. It was interest- 
ing to see some of the men from our mountains, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 167 

who had never seen the bivalve before, trying to 
eat them, and hear their comments. Our cus- 
tom was to buy anything to eat that came along, 
and so they had invested their Confederate 
notes in oysters. One of them gave some of my 
messmates an account of the time his mess had 
had with their purchases. When it was pro- 
posed that they sell their supply to us, he said, 
"No, we are not afraid to tackle anything, and 
we've made up our minds to eat what we've got 
on hand, if it takes the hair off. ' ' 

While in this camp, although it was after a 
five-months' absence, I invariably waked about 
two minutes before my time to go on guard, 
having slept soundly during the rest of the four 
hours. One officer, always finding me awake, 
asked if I ever slept at all. The habit did not 
continue, and had not been experienced before. 
An instance of the opposite extreme I witness- 
ed here in an effort to rouse Silvey, who was 
generally a driver. After getting him on his 
feet, he was shaken, pulled, and dragged around 
a blazing fire, almost scorching him, until the 
guard-officer had to give him up. If feigning, 
it was never discovered. 

The contents of my box having long since 
been consumed, I, with several others, was sent, 
under command of Lieut. Cole Davis, to my sec- 
tion at Jack's Hill. There we were quartered 
in some negro cabins on this bleak hill, over 
which the cold winds from Port Tobacco Bay 
had a fair sweep. On my return from the sen- 
tinel's beat one snowy night I discovered, by the 



168 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

dim firelight, eight or ten sheep in our cabin, 
sheltering from the storm. The temptation, with 
such an opportunity, to stir up a panic, was 
hard to resist. But, fearing the loss of an eye 
or other injury to the prostrate sleepers on the 
dirt floor, by the hoof of a bucking sheep, I 
concluded to forego the fun. After a stay of 
several weeks we were ordered back to the other 
section, much to our delight. In that barren re- 
gion, with scant provender and protected from 
the weather by a roof of cedar-brush, our horses 
had fared badly, and showed no disposition to 
pull when hitched to the guns that were held 
tight in the frozen mud. To one of the drivers, 
very tall and long of limb, who was trying in 
vain with voice and spur to urge his team to 
do its best, our Irish wit, Tom Martin, called 
out, "Pull up your frog-legs, Tomlin, if you 
want to find the baste; your heels are just 
a-spurrin' one another a foot below his belly !" 
We were delighted to be again in our old 
quarters, where we were more in the world and 
guard duty lighter. Several times before leav- 
ing this camp our mess had visits from the two 
cousins, Lewis and William Randolph, the first- 
named a. captain in the Irish Battalion, the sec- 
ond a captain in the Second Virginia Regiment, 
who stopped over-night with us, on scouting ex- 
peditions across the Rappahannock in the ene- 
my's lines, where Willie Randolph had a sweet- 
heart, whom he, soon after this, married. Lewis 
Randolph told us that he had killed a Federal 
soldier with a stone in the charge on the rail- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 169 

road-cut at second Manassas; that the man, 
who was about twenty steps from him, was re- 
capping his gun, which had just missed fire 
while aimed at Randolph's orderly-sergeant, 
when he threw the stone. William Randolph 
said, "Yes, that's true; when we were provost- 
officers at Frederick, Maryland, a man was 
brought in under arrest and, looking at Lewis, 
said, 'IVe seen you before. I saw you kill a 
Yankee at second Manassas with a stone,' and 
then related the circumstances exactly." 

William Eandolph was six feet two inches in 
height, and said that he had often been asked 
how he escaped in battle, and his reply was, 
i ' By taking a judicious advantage of the shrub- 
bery." This, however, did not continue to avail 
him, as he was afterward killed while in com- 
mand of his regiment, being one of the six com- 
manders which the Second Virginia Regiment 
lost — killed in battle — during the war. 

In March we moved from our winter-quarters 
to Hamilton's Crossing, three miles from Fred- 
ericksburg, where we remained in camp, with 
several interruptions, until May. Our fare here 
was greatly improved by the addition of fresh 
fish, so abundant at that season of the year in 
the Rappahannock and the adjacent creeks. In 
April the great cavalry battle at Kelly's Ford, 
forty miles above, was fought, in which the 
"Gallant Pelham" was killed. 



CHAPTER XX 

SECOND BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG CHANCEL- 

LORSVILLE WOUNDING AND DEATH OF STONE- 
WALL JACKSON 

The battle at Kelly's Ford was the forerun- 
ner of the crossing of Burnside's army to our 
side of the river, although this was delayed 
longer than was expected. In the latter part 
of April we were roused one morning before 
dawn to go into position on the fatal hill in the 
bend of the railroad. The various divisions of 
the army were already in motion from their 
winter-quarters, and, as they reached the neigh- 
borhood, were deployed in line of battle above 
and below. 

The high hills sloping toward the river on the 
enemy's side were manned with heavy siege- 
guns, from which shells were thrown at inter- 
vals as our troops came into view. Here we 
lay for a day or more, with guns unlimbered, 
awaiting the tedious disposition of the various 
divisions. The bluff on which our guns were 
posted, commanding, as it did, an extensive 
view of the country, attracted many of the of- 
ficers, who had preceded their men, and, with 
field-glasses, scanned the surroundings. I saw 

170 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 171 

at one time, within a few rods of where we 
stood, Generals Lee, Jackson, D. H. and A. P. 
Hill, Early, Rodes and Colston, besides a score 
of brigadiers. At this time the enemy were 
moving across their pontoon bridges and ex- 
tending their skirmish-lines on the right and 
left. 

The only time I met General Jackson to speak 
to him since he had left Lexington was when he 
rode away from this group of officers. As I held 
aside the limb of a tree in his way, near our 
gun, he extended his hand and, as he gave me 
a hearty shake, said, "How do you do, Ed- 
ward ?" A short time after this, our battery 
had orders to fire a few rounds, as a sort of 
"feeler," and the enemy at once replied. The 
officers, not having been informed of the order, 
were for a time exposed to an unnecessary and 
what might have proved very serious danger. 
However, they withdrew before any damage 
was done, although a large piece of shell which 
flew past our gun gave General Colston a close 
call as he tarried near it. After threatening 
weather, the sun rose clear on the following 
morning. A light mist which lay along the riv- 
er soon disappeared, and again, as at Harper's 
Ferry, our elevated position afforded a superb 
view. A level plain extended to the river in 
our front and for some miles to the right, and 
as far as Fredericksburg\(two miles) to the left, 
and beyond the river the Stafford Heights. 

While we were standing admiring the scene, 
three horses without riders came dashing from 



m THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

within the Federal lines, and swept at full speed 
between the two armies. They ran as if on a 
regular race-track and conscious of the many 
spectators who cheered them to their best. Then, 
veering in their course from side to side, they 
finally shot through an opening made to receive 
them into our lines, which raised a "rebel yell," 
as if Jackson were passing by. One of these 
horses trotted into our battery and was caught 
and ridden by Sergeant Strickler, under the 
name of ' ' Sedgwick, ' ' to the close of the war. 

Burnside's crossing the river at Fredericks- 
burg was only a feint, as the mass of his army 
crossed near Chancellorsville, and thither our 
army went, leaving Early's division, two other 
brigades and several batteries, including ours, 
to oppose Sedgwick's corps. After three days 
here, with occasional artillery duels, Sedgwick 
recrossed the river, and Early, supposing he 
would join Hooker, set out with his command 
toward Chancellorsville. Before we had gone 
three miles I heard General Barksdale, as he 
rode along the column, ask for General Early, 
who was a short distance ahead, and announce, 
' ' My young men have told me that the Federals 
are recrossing the river." A few moments 
later, as the two rode back together, General 
Early said, ' ' If that is the case, I must go back 
or they will get my wagon-train. ' ' 

We at once countermarched, and by eleven 
o'clock were back in position on the same bluff. 
The fourth detachment was in front and failed 
to get the order to countermarch, and so kept 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 17S 

on almost to Chancellorsville, and did not re- 
join ns until eight o'clock the next morning 
(Sunday), having spent the whole night march- 
ing. 

I will mention here a striking instance of 
what I suppose could be called the " irony of 
fate. ' ' My bedfellow, Stuart, as already stated, 
had been fearfully wounded at Winchester, his 
first battle. After his return many months later 
he often expressed the greatest desire to pass 
through one battle unhurt, and regarded his 
companions who had done so as fortunate he- 
roes. It was now Sunday morning and there 
had been heavy firing for an hour or two about 
Fredericksburg, and thither the third and 
fourth pieces were ordered. As they were start- 
ing off, I saw Stuart bidding good-by to several 
friends, and I, not wishing to undergo a thing 
so suggestive, was quietly moving off. But he 
called out, "Where is my partner?" and came 
to me, looking so jaded after his long night- 
march that his farewell made me rather serious. 
In half an hour he was dead. As he was going 
with his gun into position a case-shot exploded 
close to him and three balls passed through his 
body, any one of which would have been fatal. 

Two other members of the battery, Henry 
Foutz and J. S. Agnor, were also killed in this 
engagement. The position was a trying one. 
Two batteries had already suffered severely 
while occupying it, and the cannoneers of a 
third battery were lying inactive by their guns 
as ours came into it. But in less than an hour 



174 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

thereafter the enemy's guns were outmatched; 
at any rate, ceased firing. General Hoke, who 
had witnessed the whole affair, came and asked 
Major Latimer to introduce him to Captain 
Graham, saying he wanted to know the man 
whose guns could do such execution. About 
noon my section joined the others a short dis- 
tance in rear of this place on the hills overlook- 
ing Fredericksburg. 

Soon after we had gotten together, the bodies 
of our dead comrades were brought from the 
places at which they had fallen, and William 
Boiling, Berkeley Minor and myself, messmates 
of Stuart, were detailed to bury him. His body 
was taken in our battery ambulance, which we 
accompanied, to the Marye family cemetery 
near our old camp, and permission gotten to 
bury it there. If I was ever utterly miserable, 
it was on this Sunday afternoon as we stood, 
after we had dug the grave, in this quiet place, 
surrounded by a dense hedge of cedar, the 
ground and tombstones overgrown with moss 
and ivy, and a stillness as deep as if no war 
existed. Just at this time there came timidly 
through the hedge, like an apparition, the figure 
of a woman. She proved to be Mrs. Marye; 
and, during the battle, which had now continued 
four days, she had been seeking shelter from 
the enemy's shells in the cellar of her house. 
She had come to get a lock of Stuart's hair for 
his mother, and her presence, now added to that 
of our ambulance driver, as Minor read the 
Episcopal burial service, made the occasion 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 175 

painfully solemn. In less than an hour we were 
again with the battery and in line of battle with 
the whole of our battalion, twenty guns, all of 
which opened simultaneously on what appeared 
to be a column of artillery moving through the 
woods in our front. However, it proved to be 
a train of wagons, some of which were over- 
turned and secured by us the next day. 

Here we lay during the night with guns un- 
limbered near Gen. " Extra Billy" Smith's bri- 
gade of infantry. Next afternoon we had a fine 
view of a charge by Early's division, with 
Brigadier-Generals Gordon and Hoke riding to 
and fro along their lines and the division driv- 
ing the Federals from their position along the 
crest of the hill. The greater portion of the 
enemy's killed and wounded were left in our 
hands. Many of the latter with whom we talk- 
ed were heartily sick of the war and longed for 
the expiration of their term of service. This 
series of battles, continuing, as it did, at inter- 
vals for a week, was not yet done with. 

After dark our battery was ordered to move 
down toward Fredericksburg and occupy some 
earthworks just outside of the town. We had 
been well in range of the siege-guns already, 
but now the only hope was that they would 
overshoot us. As I was on guard that night I 
had ample time, while pacing the breastworks, 
for cogitation. I heard distinctly the barking 
of the dogs and the clocks striking the hours 
during the night. When morning came, a dense 
fog had settled along the river, entirely conceal- 



176 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ing ns, and while it hung we were ordered to 
pull out quietly. 

Two hundred yards back from this place we 
came into clear sunlight and, as we turned, saw 
an immense balloon poised on the surface of 
the mist, and apparently near enough to have 
pierced it with a shell. Not a shot was fired at 
us — veiled, as we were, by the mist — until we 
had gotten still farther away, but then some 
enormous projectiles landed around us. 

A question that would naturally present it- 
self to one who had heard of the repeated vic- 
tories won by the Confederate army would be, 
1 ' Why were no decisive results ? " By carefully 
studying the history of the war, the inquirer 
could not fail to notice that at every crisis 
either some flagrant failure on the part of a 
subordinate to execute the duty assigned to him 
occurred, or that some untoward accident befell 
the Confederate arms. Conspicuous among the 
latter was Jackson's fall at Chancellorsville. 

That General Hooker seemed entirely igno- 
rant of the proximity of General Lee's army 
was disclosed by the discovery, by General Fitz 
Lee, that the right flank of the Federal army 
was totally unguarded. 

General Jackson, when informed of this, pro- 
ceeded by a rapid march to throw his corps 
well to the right and rear of this exposed wing, 
and by this unexpected onset threw that portion 
of Hooker's army into the utmost confusion and 
disorder. Falling night for a time checked his 
advance, but, while making dispositions to push 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 177 

the advantage gained, so as to envelope his ad- 
versary, he passed, with his staff, outside of his 
picket line, and when returning to re-enter was 
mortally wounded by his own men. 

This May 4 closed the great effort of General 
Hooker, with 132,000 men, to "crush" General 
Lee's army of 47,000. The two last of the six 
days of his experience in the effort probably 
made him thankful that the loss of 20,000 of 
his force had been no greater. 

The mortal wounding of Jackson and his 
death on the tenth more than offset the advan- 
tage of the victory to the Confederates. His 
loss was deplored by the whole army, especially 
by General Lee, and to his absence in later bat- 
tles, conspicuously at Gettysburg, was our fail- 
ure to succeed attributed. In fact General Lee 
said to a friend, after the war, that with Jack- 
son at Gettysburg our success would have been 
assured — a feeling that was entertained 
throughout the army. 

On the evening of the fifth, rain, which seem- 
ed invariably to follow a great battle, fell in 
torrents and we went into camp drenched to 
the skin. After drying by a fire, I went to bed 
and slept for eighteen hours. Being in our old 
position on the hill, we converted it into a camp 
and there remained. 

On that portion of the great plain which ex- 
tended along the railroad on our right we wit- 
nessed a grand review of Jackson's old corps, 
now commanded by General Ewell. The three 
divisions, commanded, respectively, by Gener- 



178 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

als Ed. Johnson, Rodes and Early, were drawn 
np one behind the other, with a space of seven- 
ty-five yards between, and General Lee, mount- 
ed on " Traveler " and attended by a full staff 
and numerous generals, at a sweeping gallop, 
made first a circuit of the entire corps, then in 
front and rear of each division. One by one 
bis attendants dropped out of the cavalcade. 
Gen. Ed. Johnson escaped a fall from his horse 
by being caught by one of his staff. Early 
soon pulled out, followed at intervals by others ; 
but the tireless gray, as with superb ease and 
even strides he swept back and forth, making 
the turns as his rider's body inclined to right 
or left, absorbed attention. The distance cov- 
ered was nine miles, at the end of which Gen- 
eral Lee drew rein with only one of his staff 
and Gen. A. P. Hill at his side. Such spectacles 
were to us extremely rare, and this one was 
especially well timed, affording the troops, as it 
did, an opportunity to see that they were still 
formidable in number, and although Jackson 
was dead that the soul of the army had not 
passed away. 



CHAPTEE XXI 

OPENING OF CAMPAIGN OF 1863 — CEOSSING TO THE 
VALLEY BATTLE AT WINCHESTER WITH MIL- 
ROY — CROSSING THE POTOMAC 

The indications of another campaign were 
now not wanting, bnt what shape it would take 
caused cnrions speculation ; that is, among those 
whose duty was only to execute. Longstreet 
had been recalled from the Virginia Peninsu- 
la; Hooker's hosts again lined the Stafford 
Heights across the Rappahannock. At evening 
we listened to the music of their bands, at night 
could see the glow of their camp-fires for miles 
around. On June 2, Ewell's corps first broke 
camp, followed in a day or two by Longstreet 's, 
while A. P. Hill's remained at Fredericksburg 
to observe the movements of Hooker. On the 
eighth we reached Culpeper, where we remain- 
ed during the ninth, awaiting the result of the 
greatest and most stubbornly contested cavalry 
engagement of the war, which continued 
throughout the day in our hearing — at Brandy 
Station. The Federals having been driven 
across the river, our march was resumed on 
the tenth. 

On the following day we heard, at first indis- 



180 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

tinctly, toward the front of the column con- 
tinued cheering. Following on, it grew louder 
and louder. We reached the foot of a long as- 
cent, from the summit of which the shout went 
up, but were at a loss to know what called it 
forth. Arriving there, there loomed up before 
us the old Blue Ridge, and we, too, joined in 
the chorus. Moving on with renewed life, the 
continued greeting of those following was 
heard as eye after eye took in its familiar face. 
We had thought that the love for these old 
mountains was peculiar to us who had grown 
up among them; but the cheer of the Creoles 
who had been with us under Jackson was as 
hearty as our own. 

We passed through Little Washington, 
thence by Chester Gap to Front Royal, the first 
of our old battlegrounds in the Valley, having 
left Longstreet's and Hill's corps on the east 
side of the mountain. At Winchester, as usual, 
was a force of the enemy under our former ac- 
quaintance, General Milroy. Without interrup- 
tion we were soon in his vicinity. Nearly two 
days were consumed in feeling his strength and 
position. Our battery was posted on a com- 
manding hill north of the town, the top of which 
was already furrowed with solid shot and shells 
to familiarize the enemy with its range. Our 
battery now consisted of two twenty-pound Par- 
rott, and two brand-new English Blakeley guns, 
to one of which I belonged. And a singular co- 
incidence it was that in putting in the first 
charge my gun was choked, the same thing hav- 




B. C. M. Friend 






FACING ISO 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 181 

ing occurred on the same field a year before, 
being the only times it happened during the 
war. I went immediately to the third piece 
and took the place of No. 1. 

The battle had now begun, the enemy firing 
at us from a strongly fortified fort near the 
town. Their target practice was no criterion 
of their shooting when being shot at, as not 
one of us was even wounded. While the battle 
was in progress we had a repetition of the race 
at Fredericksburg when there dashed from the 
Federal fort three artillery horses, which came 
at full speed over the mile between us, appear- 
ing and disappearing from view. On reaching 
the battery they were caught, and one of them, 
which we named "Milroy," was driven by 
James Lewis at the wheel of my gun, and re- 
stored with "Sedgwick" to his old associates 
at Appomattox. 

Night put a stop to hostilities, and the next 
day, until late in the afternoon, we passed in- 
actively. Then Hayes's Louisiana Brigade, for- 
merly commanded by Gen. Dick Taylor, formed 
in our front and, charging with the old yell, 
captured the fort. After night I found two 
members of our company in possession of a 
little mule, equipped with saddle and bridle, 
supposed to be a United States animal. They 
said they were afraid of mules, and turned him 
over to me. I forthwith mounted, and passed 
an hour pleasantly, riding around. As I once 
heard a little negro say, "I went everywhar I 
knowed, an' everywhar I didn't know I come 



182 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

back. ' ' I felt now that I had a mount for the 
campaign, but next morning one of the Rich- 
mond Howitzers claimed the mule and identi- 
fied it as his. 

The bulk of Milroy's force escaped during 
the night, but we captured four thousand pris- 
oners, twenty-eight pieces of artillery, and hun- 
dreds of wagons and horses, and equipped our- 
selves, as we had done in 1862, at the expense 
of Banks. For our two recently acquired Eng- 
lish Blakeley guns we substituted two twenty- 
pound Parrotts, giving us four guns of the same 
caliber. On the thirteenth we crossed the Po- 
tomac at Shepherdstown, thence by way of Ha- 
gerstown, Maryland, to Greencastle, Pennsyl- 
vania, the first live Yankee town we had visited 
in war times. Many of the stores were open 
and full of goods, but as they refused to take 
Confederate money, and we were forbidden to 
plunder, we passed on, feeling aggrieved, and 
went into camp a few miles beyond. 

Having a curiosity to test the resources and 
hospitality of this abundant country, I set out 
from camp, with two companions, for this pur- 
pose. A walk of a mile brought us to the house 
of a widow with three pretty daughters. They 
told us they had been feeding many of our sol- 
diers and could give us only some milk, which 
they served, as seemed to be the custom of the 
country, in large bowls. They said they did not 
dislike rebels, and if we would go on to Wash- 
ington and kill Lincoln, and end the war, they 
would rejoice. Proceeding farther, we stopped 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 183 

at a substantial brick house and were silently 
ushered into a large room, in the far end of 
which sat the head of the house, in clean white 
shirt-sleeves but otherwise dressed for com- 
pany, his hat on and his feet as high as his 
head against the wall, smoking a cigar. At the 
other end of the room the rest of the family 
were at supper, of which we were perfunctorily 
asked by the mistress to partake. A very aged 
lady, at a corner of the table, without speak- 
ing or raising her eyes, chewed apparently the 
same mouthful during our stay — one of our 
party suggested, "perhaps her tongue." The 
table was thickly covered with saucers of pre- 
serves, pickles, radishes, onions, cheese, etc. The 
man of the house did not turn his head nor speak 
a word during our stay, which was naturally 
over with the meal. 

We returned to the battalion about sunset, 
encamped in a clean, grassy enclosure, the 
horses enjoying their bountiful food, the men 
in gay spirits, and the regimental bands play- 
ing lively airs. Shortly after our return, there 
occurred an incident which lent additional in- 
terest to the occasion. 

No one at all familiar with the Eockbridge 
Artillery will fail to remember Merrick. A law- 
yer and native of Hagerstown, Maryland, hav- 
ing been educated abroad, he was an accom- 
plished scholar and a fine musician, with a 
stock of Irish and other songs which he sang 
admirably. In person he was very slender, 
over six feet in height, with a long neck, promi- 



184 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

nent nose, and very thin hair and whiskers. Cut 
off from home and being utterly improvident, 
he was entirely dependent on quartermaster's 
goods for his apparel, and when clothing was 
issued his forlorn and ragged appearance 
hushed every claim by others who might have 
had precedence. This Confederate clothing, 
like the rations, was very short, so that Mer- 
rick's pantaloons and jacket failed to meet, by 
several inches, the intervening space showing 
a very soiled cotton shirt. With the garments 
mentioned — a gray cap, rusty shoes and socks, 
and, in winter, half the tail of his overcoat 
burnt off — his costume is described. 

Indifference to his appearance extended also 
to danger, and when a battle was on hand so 
was Merrick. Before crossing the Potomac he 
disappeared from the command a perfect-look- 
ing vagabond, and now as we were reveling in 
this bountiful country there rolled into our 
midst a handsome equipage drawn by two styl- 
ish horses. When the door was opened out 
stepped Merrick, handsomely dressed in citi- 
zen's clothes, and handed out two distinguished- 
looking gentlemen, to whom he introduced us. 
Then, in the language of Dick Swiveler, "he 
passed around the rosy"; and all taking a pull, 
our enthusiasm for Merrick mounted high. 

Our march under Ewell had been admirably 
conducted. We were always on the road at an 
early hour, and, without hurry or the usual halts 
caused by troops crowding on one another, we 
made good distances each day and were in camp 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 185 

by sunset. I never before or afterward saw the 
men so buoyant. There was no demonstration, 
but a quiet undercurrent of confidence that they 
were there to conquer. The horses, too, invigo- 
rated by abundant food, carried higher heads 
and pulled with firmer tread. 

Our march from Greencastle was through 
Chambersburg and Shippensburg, and when 
within eight or ten miles of Carlisle we passed 
through one or two hundred Pennsylvania mili- 
tia in new Federal uniforms, who had just been 
captured and paroled. Before reaching Car- 
lisle we very unexpectedly (to us) counter- 
marched, and found the militiamen at the same 
place, but almost all of them barefooted, their 
shoes and stockings having been appropriated 
by needy rebels. As we first saw them they 
were greatly crestfallen, but after losing their 
footgear all spirit seemed to have gone out of 
them. They lingered, it may be, in anticipation 
of the greetings when met by wives and little 
ones at home, after having sallied forth so vali- 
antly in their defense. How embarrassing bare 
feet would be instead of the expected trophies 
of war! Imagine a young fellow, too, meeting 
his sweetheart ! That they kept each other com- 
pany to the last moment, managed to reach 
home after night, and ate between meals for 
some days, we may be sure. 

Before reaching Chambersburg we took a 
road to the left, in the direction of Gettysburg. 
To give an idea of the change in our diet since 
leaving Dixie, I give the bill-of-fare of a break- 



186 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

fast my mess enjoyed while on this road: Real 
coffee and sugar, light bread, biscuits with lard 
in them, butter, apple-butter, a fine 1 dish of 
fried chicken, and a quarter of roast lamb! 

On the morning of July 1 we passed through 
a division of Longstreet's corps bivouacked in 
a piece of woods. Our road lay across a high 
range of hills, from beyond which the sound of 
cannonading greeted us. By three o'clock that 
afternoon, when we reached the summit of the 
hills, the firing ahead had developed into the 
roar of a battle, and we pushed forward on the 
down-grade. The valley below, through which 
we passed, was thickly settled, and soon we be- 
gan to meet prisoners and our wounded, whose 
numbers rapidly increased as we advanced, and 
at the same pump by the roadside we frequent- 
ly saw a group of Federal and Confederate sol- 
diers having their wounds bathed and dressed 
by Northern women, kind alike to friend and 
foe. When we reached the field, about sundown, 
the battle was over. This was July 1 and the 
first of the three days of terrific fighting which 
constituted the battle of Gettysburg 



CHAPTER XXII 

ON THE WAY TO GETTYSBUKG BATTLE OF GETTYS- 
BURG RETREAT 

Before proceeding farther let us consider 
briefly the condition of the two armies, and 
which had the better grounds to hope for suc- 
cess in the great conflict now impending. With 
the exception of one — Sharpsburg — which was 
a drawn battle, the Confederates had been vic- 
torious in every general engagement up to this 
time. Scant rations, deprivation, and hard- 
ships of every kind had made them tired of 
the war ; and the recent abundance had not only 
put them in better fighting condition than ever 
before, but made them long to enjoy it perma- 
nently at home. 

The Federal army had changed commanders 
after every defeat, and the present one — Gen- 
eral Meade — who had just been appointed, was 
not an officer to inspire special confidence. With 
all this in favor of the Southerners, all else 
seemed to conspire against them. On the morn- 
ing of June 30, the day before the battle, Pick- 
ett's division was at Chambersburg, thirty 
miles from Gettysburg; Hood's and McLaw's 
(the other two divisions of Longstreet's corps) 

187 



188 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

fifteen miles nearer Gettysburg; Hill's corps at 
Cashtown, nine miles from Gettysburg; Rodes's 
division of Ewell's corps at Carlisle, thirty 
miles distant; Johnson's at Greenville, and 
Early's near York. General Early levied for 
and obtained from the city of York several 
thousand pairs of shoes and socks and a less 
number of hats for his men, and $26,000 in 
money. 

The different portions of the Federal army 
at this time were spread out over a large area, 
south and east of Gettysburg. To the absence 
of our cavalry, whose whereabouts since cross- 
ing the Potomac had not even been known by 
General Lee, was due the ignorance as to the 
location of the Federals, causing loss of time 
and the employment of other troops to do what 
the cavalry should have done. It is generally 
conceded that until they found themselves face 
to face the commander of neither army expect- 
ed or desired this locality to be the battle- 
ground. And when we consider the fact that 
armies have been known to maneuver for weeks 
for a vantage ground on which to give battle, 
we can realize the importance of this seeming 
accident, which sealed the doom of the Confed- 
eracy. For if the whole State of Pennsylvania 
had been gone over, it is probable that no other 
place could have been found which afforded 
such advantages as did this to the Northern 
army. 

Early's division had passed it several days 
before on his way to York, and Pettigrew's bri- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 189 

gade of Hill's corps on July 1, while approach- 
ing in search of shoes for his men, encountered 
Buford's Federal cavalry, precipitating the 
first day's conflict, in which Hill's corps, 
Eodes's and Early's divisions captured 5,000 
prisoners and drove the Federals through the 
town to the heights beyond. Our battalion of 
artillery, soon after dark, passed southward 
through the outskirts of the town with Early's 
division and bivouacked for the night. By dawn 
of the following day (July 2) sufficient of the 
Federal army had arrived to occupy and for- 
tify the heights. From where our battery was 
posted, a mile east of the town, we had in full 
view the end of Cemetery Hill, with an arched 
gateway for an entrance. To the left of it and 
joined by a depressed ridge was Culp's Hill, 
steep and rugged as a mountain, all now held 
and fortified by the enemy. Jackson's old di- 
vision, now commanded by Gen. Ed. Johnson, 
having arrived late in the night, formed at the 
base of Culp 's Hill, and before an hour of day- 
light had elapsed had stirred up a hornets' nest 
in their front. 

I must mention an incident that occurred dur- 
ing this forenoon quite interesting to myself. As 
we were standing by our guns, not yet having 
fired a shot, General Ewell and his staff came 
riding by, and Lieut.-Col. Sandy Pendleton, his 
adjutant, rode out from among them and hand- 
ed me two letters. To receive two letters in the 
army at any time was an event, but here, away 
in the enemy's country, in the face of their 



190 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

frowning guns, for them to have come so far 
and then be delivered at the hands of the 
General and his staff was quite something. One 
of the letters I recognized as being from my 
mother, the other aroused my curiosity. The 
envelope, directed in a feminine hand, was very 
neat, but the end had been burned off and the 
contents were held in place by a narrow red 
ribbon daintily tied. In so conspicuous a place, 
with a battle on, I could not trust myself to 
open my treasures. It was near night before 
a suitable time came, and my billet-doux con- 
tained the following: 

You are cordially invited to be present 
at the Commencement Exercises of the 

Female Seminary, on the evening 

of Jidy 3d, 1863, at eight o'clock p. m. 
Compliments of Gertrude . 

My feelings were inexpressible. How I long- 
ed to be there! To think of such a place of 
quiet and peace as compared with my surround- 
ings on this bloody battlefield! 

But to return to the serious features of the 
day. With the exception of the steady mus- 
ketry firing by Johnson 's men on Culp 's Hill, 
the day passed quietly until nearly four 
o'clock. At this time Andrews's battalion of 
artillery, led by Major Latimer, passed in front 
of us and went into position two hundred yards 
to our left, and nearer the enemy. The ground 
sloped so as to give us a perfect view of his 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 191 

four batteries. Promptly other batteries joined 
those confronting us on Cemetery Hill, and by 
the time Latimer's guns were unlimbered the 
guns on both sides were thundering. 

In less than five minutes one of Latimer's 
caissons was exploded, which called forth a 
lusty cheer from the enemy. In five minutes 
more a Federal caisson was blown up, which 
brought forth a louder cheer from us. In this 
action Latimer's batteries suffered fearfully, 
the Alleghany Boughs alone losing twenty- 
seven men killed and wounded. Only one or two 
were wounded in our battery, the proximity of 
Latimer's guns drawing the fire to them. Near 
the close of the engagement, Latimer, who was 
a graduate of the Virginia Military Institute, 
a mere youth in appearance, was killed. 

The artillery contest was a small part of the 
afternoon's work. One of Johnson's brigades, 
after capturing breastworks and prisoners on 
Culp's Hill, pushed nearly to General Meade's 
headquarters. Eodes, usually so prompt, was 
occupying the town and failed to attack till 
late, and then with but two of his four brigades ; 
but they charged over three lines of breast- 
works and captured several pieces of artillery, 
which had to be abandoned for want of support. 
Sickles 's corps, having occupied the two 
"Round Tops" on the extreme left of the Fed- 
eral line, advanced on Longstreet, and at four 
p. m. the two lines met in the celebrated "Peach 
Orchard," and from that time until night 



192 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

fought furiously, the Federals being driven 
back to their original ground. 

At the close of the second day the Confeder- 
ates had gained ground on the right and left, 
and captured some artillery, but still nothing 
decisive. Another night passed, and the third 
and last day dawned on two anxious armies. 
Pickett, after a mysterious delay of twenty- 
four hours, arrived during the forenoon and be- 
came the left of Longstreet's corps. At twelve 
o'clock word was passed along our lines that 
when two signal-guns were heard, followed by 
heavy firing, to open vigorously with our guns. 
There was no mistaking when that time came, 
and we joined with the three hundred guns that 
made the firing. For an hour or more a crash 
and roar of artillery continued that rolled and 
reverberated above, and made the earth under 
us tremble. When it began there was great 
commotion among the enemy's batteries in our 
front, some of which limbered up and galloped 
along the crest of Cemetery Hill, but soon re- 
turned and renewed their fire on us. 

So far they had failed to do our battery any 
serious harm, but now each volley of their shells 
came closer and closer. At this time my atten- 
tion was attracted to the second piece, a few 
paces to our left, and I saw a shell plow into 
the ground under Lieutenant Brown's feet and 
explode. It tore a large hole, into which Brown 
sank, enveloped as he fell in smoke and dust. 
In an instant another shell burst at the trail of 
my gun, tearing the front half of Tom William- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 193 

son's shoe off, and wounding him sorely. A 
piece of it also broke James Ford's leg, besides 
cutting off the fore leg of Captain Graham's 
horse. Ford was holding the lead-horses of the 
limber, and, as they wheeled to run, their bri- 
dles were seized by Bader, a shell struck the 
horse nearest to him, and, exploding at the in- 
stant, killed all four of the lead-horses and 
stunned Eader. These same horses and this 
driver had very nearly a similar experience 
(though not so fatal) at Sharpsburg a year be- 
fore, as already described. Sam Wilson, an- 
other member of our detachment, was also pain- 
fully wounded and knocked down by the same 
shell. 

This artillery bombardment was the prelude 
to Pickett 's charge, which took place on the op- 
posite side of Cemetery Hill, and out of our 
view. Culp's Hill, since the early morning pre- 
vious, had been enveloped in a veil of smoke 
from Johnson's muskets, which had scarcely 
had time to cool during the thirty-six hours. 

The men of the Fourth Virginia Begiment had 
been gradually and steadily advancing from 
boulder to boulder, until they were almost under 
the enemy's fortifications along the crest of the 
ridge. To proceed farther was physically im- 
possible, to retreat was almost certain death. 
So, of the College company alone, one of whom 
had already been killed and many wounded, six- 
teen, including Captain Strickler, were cap- 
tured. To John McKee, of this company, a stal- 
wart Irish Federal said as he reached out to 



194 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

pull him up over the breastworks, ' ' Gim-me your 
hand, Johnny Reb; youVe give' us the bulliest 
fight of the war ! ' ' 

Lieutenant ' ' Cush ' ' Jones determined to run 
the gauntlet for escape, and as he darted away 
the point of his scabbard struck a stone, and 
throwing it inverted above his head, lost out his 
handsome sword. Three bullets passed through 
his clothing in his flight, and the boulder behind 
which he next took refuge was peppered by oth- 
ers. Here, also, my former messmate, George 
Bedinger, now captain of a company in the 
Thirty-third Virginia Regiment, was killed, 
leading his "Greeks," as he called his men. 

About nine o'clock that evening, and before 
we had moved from our position, I received a 
message, through Captain Graham, from some 
of the wounded of our company, to go to them at 
their field-hospital. Following the messenger, 
I found them in charge of our surgeon, Dr. 
Herndon, occupying a neat brick cottage a mile 
in the rear, from which the owners had fled, 
leaving a well-stocked larder, and from it we 
refreshed ourselves most gratefully. Toward 
midnight orders came to move. The ambulances 
were driven to the door and, after the wounded, 
some eight or ten in number, had been assisted 
into them, I added from the stores in the house 
a bucket of lard, a crock of butter, a jar of 
apple-butter, a ham, a middling of bacon, and 
a side of sole-leather. All for the wounded ! 

Feeling assured that we would not tarry much 
longer in Pennsylvania, and expecting to reach 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 195 

the battery before my services would be needed, 
I set out with the ambulances. We moved on 
until daylight and joined the wounded of the 
other batteries of our battalion, and soon after 
left, at a house by the wayside, a member of 
the Eichmond Howitzers who was dying. Our 
course was along a by-road in the direction of 
Hagerstown. In the afternoon, after joining 
the wagon-train, I found "Joe," the colored 
cook of my mess, in possession of a supernu- 
merary battery-horse, which I appropriated and 
mounted. Our column now consisted of ambu- 
lances loaded with wounded men, wounded men 
on foot, cows, bulls, quartermasters, portable 
forges, surgeons, cooks, and camp-followers in 
general, all plodding gloomily along through 
the falling rain. 

We arrived at the base of the mountain about 
live p. m. and began ascending by a narrow 
road, leading obliquely to the left. Before pro- 
ceeding farther some description of the horse I 
was riding is appropriate, as he proved an im- 
portant factor in my experiences before the 
night was over. He was the tallest horse I ever 
saw outside of a show, with a very short back 
and exceedingly long legs, which he handled pe- 
culiarly, going several gaits at one time. Many 
a cannoneer had sought rest on his back on the 
march, but none had ventured on so high a 
perch when going into battle. When half-way 
up the mountain we heard to our left oblique 
the distant mutter of a cannon, then in a few 
moments the sound was repeated, but we 



196 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

thought it was safely out of our course and felt 
correspondingly comfortable. At intervals the 
report of that gun was heard again and again. 
About dusk we reached the top of the mountain, 
after many, many halts, and the sound of that 
cannon became more emphatic. 

After descending a few hundred yards there 
came from a bridle-path on our left, just as I 
passed it, three cavalry horses with empty sad- 
dles. This was rather ominous. The halts in 
the mixed column were now frequent, darkness 
having set in, and we had but little to say. That 
cannon had moved more to our front, and our 
road bore still more to where it was thunder- 
ing. We were now almost at the foot of the 
mountain, and to the left, nearer our front, were 
scattering musket-shots. Our halts were still 
short and frequent, and in the deep shadow of 
the mountain it was pitch-dark. All of this time 
I had not a particle of confidence in my horse. 
I could not tell what was before me in the dense 
darkness, whether friend or foe, but suddenly, 
after pausing an instant, he dashed forward. 
For fifty or seventy-five yards every other 
sound was drowned by a roaring waterfall on 
my right ; then, emerging from its noise, I was 
carried at a fearful rate close by dismounted 
men who were firing from behind trees along 
the roadside, the flashes of their guns, " whose 
speedy gleams the darkness swallowed,' ' reveal- 
ing me on my tall horse with his head up. He 
must see safety ahead, and I let him fly. 

A hundred yards farther on our road joined 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 197 

the main pike at an acute angle, and entering it 
he swept on. Then, just behind me, a Federal 
cannon was discharged. The charge of canister 
tore through the brush on either side, and over 
and under me, and at the same instant my 
steed's hind leg gave way, and my heart sank 
with it. If struck at all, he immediately rallied 
and outran himself as well as his competitors. 
After getting out of the range of the firing and 
the shadow of the mountain, I saw indistinctly 
our cavalrymen along the side of the road, and 
we bantered each other as I passed. 

Farther on, at a toll-gate, I heard the voice 
of Tom Williamson. His ambulance had broken 
down and he was being assisted toward the 
house. I drew rein, but thought, "How can I 
help him? This horse must be well-nigh done 
for,'' and rode on. Since reaching the foot of 
the mountain the way had been open and every- 
thing on it moving for life. But again the road 
was full, and approaching clatter, with the 
sharp reports of pistols, brought on another 
rush, and away we went — wagons, wounded 
men, negroes, forges, ambulances, cavalry — ev- 
erything. 

This in time subsided and, feeling ashamed, 
I turned back to look after my wounded, my 
horse as reluctant as myself, and expecting ev- 
ery moment the sound of the coming foe. A 
sudden snort and the timid step of my nervous 
steed warned me of breakers ahead. Peering 
through the darkness I saw coming toward me, 
noiseless and swift as the wind, an object white 



198 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

as the driven snow. "What," I asked myself, 
"are ghosts abroad, and in snch a place! Is 
Gettysburg giving np her dead so soon?" But, 
as the thing met me, a voice cried out, "Is that 
you, Ned! Is that you? Take me on your horse. 
Let me get in the saddle and you behind." For 
a moment I was dumb, and wished it wasn't I. 
The voice was the voice of Lieutenant Brown, 
the same whom I had seen undermined by the 
shell at Gettysburg, and who had not put a foot 
to the ground until now. Barefooted, barehead- 
ed; nothing on but drawers and shirt — white 
as a shroud ! The prospect that now confronted 
me instantly flashed through my mind. First, 
"Can this horse carry two!" Then I pictured 
myself with such a looking object in my em- 
brace, and with nothing with which to conceal 
him. There were settlements ahead, daylight 
was approaching, and what a figure we would 
cut ! It was too much for me, and I said, ' ' No, 
get on behind," feeling that the specter might 
retard the pursuing foe. But my tall horse 
solved the difficulty. Withdrawing my foot from 
the stirrup, Brown would put his in and try to 
climb up, when suddenly the horse would ' ' swap 
ends." and down he'd go. Again he would try 
and almost make it, and the horse not wheeling 
quickly enough I would give him the hint with 
my " off " heel. My relief can be imagined when 
an ambulance arrived and took Brown in. I ac- 
companied him for a short distance, then quick- 
ened my pace and overtook the train. Presently 
another clatter behind and the popping of pis- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 199 

tols. Eiding at my side was a horseman, and 
by the flash of his pistol I saw it pointing to 
the ground at our horses' feet. 

Reaching the foot of a hill, my horse stum- 
bled and fell as if to rise no more. I expected 
to be instantly trampled out of sight. I heard 
a groan, but not where the horse's head should 
have been. Resting my feet on the ground, thus 
relieving him of my weight, he got his head 
from under him and floundered forward, then to 
his feet and away. Farther on, a swift horse 
without a rider was dashing by me. I seized 
what I supposed to be his bridle-rein, but it 
proved to be the strap on the saddle-bow, and 
the pull I gave came near unhorsing me. 

The pursuit continued no farther. Not hav- 
ing slept for two days and nights, I could not 
keep awake, and my game old horse, now wear- 
ied out, would stagger heedlessly against the 
wheels of moving wagons. Just at dawn of day, 
in company with a few horsemen of our battal- 
ion, I rode through the quiet streets of Hagers- 
town, thence seven miles to William sport. 

The wounded of our battalion had all been 
captured. A few, however, were not carried off, 
but left until our army came up. Some of the 
cooks, etc., escaped by dodging into the brush, 
but many a good horse and rider had been run 
down and taken. At Williamsport I exchanged 
horses with an infantryman while he was lying 
asleep on a porch, and had completed the trans- 
action before he was sufficiently awake to re- 
monstrate. 



200 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

We were now entirely cut off from our army, 
and with what of the wagons, etc., that remain- 
ed were at the mercy of the enemy, as the Po- 
tomac was swollen to a depth of twenty feet 
where I had waded a year before. Most of the 
horses had to be swum over, as there was little 
room in the ferry-boats for them. The river was 
so high that this was very dangerous, and only 
expert swimmers dared to undertake it. Twenty 
dollars was paid for swimming a horse over, 
and I saw numbers swept down by the current 
and landed hundreds of yards below, many on 
the side from which they had started. I crossed 
in a ferry-boat on my recently acquired horse, 
having left my faithful old charger, his head 
encased in mud to the tips of his ears, with min- 
gled feelings of sadness and gratitude. 

A great curiosity to understand this battle 
and battlefield induced me to visit it at the first 
opportunity, and in 1887, twenty-four years af- 
ter it was fought, I, with Colonel Poague, glad- 
ly accepted an invitation from the survivors of 
Pickett's division to go with them to Gettys- 
burg, whither they had been invited to meet the 
Philadelphia Brigade, as their guests, and go 
over the battlefield together. After our arrival 
there, in company with two officers of the Phil- 
adelphia Brigade, one of Pickett's men and an 
intelligent guide, I drove over the field. As a 
part of our entertainment we saw the Pickett 
men formed on the same ground and in the 
same order in which they had advanced to the 
charge. Farther on we saw the superb monu- 




Edward A. Moore 

(February, 1907) 



FACING 200 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 201 

ments, marking the location of the different 
Federal regiments, presenting the appearance 
of a vast cemetery. The position held by the 
Federals for defense was perfect. Its extent 
required the whole of the Confederate army 
present to occupy the one line they first adopt- 
ed, with no troops to spare for flanking. Its 
shape, somewhat like a fish-hook, enabled the 
Federal army to reinforce promptly any part 
that was even threatened. Its terrain was such 
that the only ground sufficiently smooth for an 
enemy to advance on, that in front of its cen- 
ter, was exposed throughout, not only to mis- 
siles from its front, but could be raked from 
the heights on its left. And, in addition to all 
this, the whole face of the country, when the 
battle was fought, was closely intersected with 
post and rail and stone fences. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

-RETURN TO ORANGE COUNTY, 
VIRGINIA BLUE RUN CHURCH BRISTOW STA- 
TION RAPPAHANNOCK BRIDGE SUPPLEMENT- 
ING CAMP RATIONS 

To return to my retreat from Gettysburg. 
The clothes that I wore were all that I now 
possessed. My blanket, extra wearing apparel, 
lard, apple-butter, sole-leather, etc., with the 
wounded, were in the hands of the Federals. 
Being completely cut off from our army, I set 
out for Winchester. Near Martinsburg I pass- 
ed the night sleeping on the ground — my first 
sleep in sixty hours — and reached Winchester 
the following day. In a day or two, thinking 
our army had probably reached the Potomac, I 
turned back to join it. On my way thither I 
called at ' ' The Bower, ' ' the home of my mess- 
mate, Steve Dandridge. This was a favorite 
resort of Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, where, accom- 
panied by the celebrated banjoist, Joe Sweeny, 
merry nights were passed with song and dance. 
I was overwhelmed with kindness by Mr. and 
Mrs. Dandridge, their daughters and nieces. 
They would not hear of my leaving ; at any rate, 
until they had time to make me some undergar- 

202 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 203 

merits. In the afternoon I accompanied the 
young ladies to the fields blackberrying, and 
had some jolly laughs. They felt that a Con- 
federate soldier should be treated like a king, 
that he must be worn out with marching and 
fighting. They insisted on my sitting in the 
shade while they gathered and brought me the 
choicest berries, and actually wanted to let the 
fences down, to save me the effort of climbing. 
At that time I weighed one hundred and ninety 
pounds, was in vigorous health and strength, 
tough as hickory, and could go over or through 
a Virginia rail fence as deftly as a mule. It 
was some days before our army could recross 
the Potomac, on account of high water. As I 
rode in, on my return to the battery, I was 
given a regular cheer, all thinking that I was 
probably, by that time, in Fort Delaware. 

Our wounded had been captured in Pennsyl- 
vania, except Tom Williamson, who was left at 
the toll-house and picked up as our battery 
came by. As he had become my bedfellow since 
Stuart \s death, I was sent with him to Winches- 
ter, where I cared for him at the home of Mrs. 
Anne Magill. During my stay Randolph Tuck- 
er, a brother of Mrs. Magill, and Bishop Wil- 
mer, of Alabama, were guests in the house, and 
Mr. Tucker kept the household alive with his 
songs and jokes. After a week or more in camp, 
near Bunker Hill, our despondent army passed 
through Winchester, thence by Front Royal 
across the Blue Ridge, and encamped for the 
remainder of the summer in Orange County, 



204 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

with men and horses greatly depleted in num- 
ber and spirits. 

Our battery camped at Blue Run Church and 
near a field of corn. Roasting ears afforded the 
chief portion of our living. It was surprising 
to see how much, in addition to the army ra- 
tions, a man could consume day after day, or 
rather night after night, with no especial al- 
teration in his physique. 

Soup was a favorite dish, requiring, as it did, 
but one vessel for all the courses, and the more 
ingredients it contained, the more it was rel- 
ished. Merrick claimed to be an adept in the 
culinary art, and proposed to several of us that 
if we would "club in" with him he would con- 
coct a pot that would be food for the gods. He 
was to remain in camp, have the water boiling, 
and the meat sufficiently cooked by the time the 
others returned from their various rounds in 
search of provender. In due time, one after 
another, the foragers showed up, having been 
very successful in their acquisitions, which, ac- 
cording to Merrick's directions, were consigned 
to the pot. As some fresh contribution, which 
he regarded as especially savory, was added, 
Merrick's countenance would brighten up. At 
one time he sat quietly musing, then gave ex- 
pression to his joy in an Irish ditty. His hand- 
some suit of clothes, donned at Hagerstown, 
was now in tatters, which made his appearance 
the more ludicrous as he "cut the pigeon-wing" 
around the seething cauldron. He had particu- 
larly enjoined upon us, when starting out, to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 205 

procure, at all hazards, some okra, which we 
failed to get, and, in naming aloud the various 
items, as each appeared on the surface of the 
water, he wound up his soliloquy with, "And 
now, Lord, for a little okra ! ' ' 

Tn September the army moved again toward 
Manassas, about seventy miles distant. When 
we arrived at Bristow, the next station south 
of Manassas, an engagement had just taken 
place, in which Gen. A. P. Hill had been disas- 
trously outwitted by his adversary, General 
Warren, and the ground was still strewn with 
our dead. The Federals were drawn up in two 
lines of battle, the one in front being concealed 
in the railroad-cut, while the rear line, with 
skirmishers in front, stood in full view. The 
Confederates, unaware of the line in the cut, 
advanced to the attack without skirmishers and 
were terribly cut up by the front line, and 
driven back, with a loss of several pieces of 
artillery and scores of men. The delay caused 
by this unfortunate affair gave the Federal 
army ample time to withdraw at leisure. Gen- 
eral Lee arrived on the scene just at the close 
of this affair and was asked, by General Hill, if 
he should pursue the then retreating Federals. 
He replied, "No, General Hill; all that can now 
be done is to bury your unfortunate dead." 

After this we returned to the west side of 
the Eappahannock and encamped at Pisgah 
Church, overlooking the plains about Brandy 
Station. As the war was prolonged, Confeder- 
ate rations proportionately diminished, both in 



206 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

quantity and variety. Consequently, to escape 
the pangs of hunger, the few opportunities that 
presented themselves were gladly seized. In the 
absence of the sportsmen of peace times, game 
had become quite abundant, especially quail. 
But our " murmur nigs,' 1 if any there were, did 
not avail, as did those of the Israelites, ' ' to fill 
the camp." I soon succeeded in getting an En- 
field rifle, a gun not designed for such small 
game. By beating Minie-balls out flat, then cut- 
ting the plates into square blocks or slugs, I 
prepared my ammunition, and in the first 
eleven shots killed nine quail on the wing. I 
was shooting for the pot, and shot to kill. 

From this camp our battery was ordered to 
occupy a fort on the west side of the river, near 
Eappahannock Station. Immediately across the 
river Hayes's and Hoke's brigades of Early's 
division occupied a line of breastworks as a 
picket or outpost. A pontoon bridge (a bridge 
of boats), in place of the railroad bridge, which 
had been burned, served as a crossing. While 
a dozen or more of our battery were a mile in 
the rear of the fort, getting a supply of fire- 
wood, another member of the company came to 
us at a gallop, with orders to return as quickly 
as possible to the fort. On our arrival the in- 
dications of an attack from the enemy were 
very apparent. They must have anticipated im- 
mense slaughter, as no less than a hundred of 
their ambulances were plainly visible. About 
four p. m. they opened on us with artillery, and 
from that time until sundown a spirited contest 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 807 

was kept up. While this was in progress their 
infantry advanced, but, after a brief but rapid 
fire of musketry, almost perfect quiet was re- 
stored. 

While working at my gun I received what I 
thought to be a violent kick on the calf of my 
leg, but, turning to discover whence the blow 
came, saw a Minie-ball spinning on the ground. 
It was very painful for a time, but did not in- 
terrupt my service at the gun. It was too dark 
for us to see what was going on across the riv- 
er, but the sudden and complete stillness follow- 
ing the firing was very mysterious. While 
speculating among ourselves as to what it 
meant, a half -naked infantryman came almost 
breathless into our midst and announced that 
both brigades had been captured, he having es- 
caped by swimming the river. One of our lieu- 
tenants refused to believe his statement and did 
the worthy fellow cruel injustice in accusing 
him of skulking. That his story was true soon 
became evident. Our situation was now ex- 
tremely dangerous, as the Federals had only 
to cross on the pontoon bridge a hundred yards 
from the fort and ' ' gobble us up. ' ' About nine 
o'clock General Early, with his other two bri- 
gades, arrived. After acquainting himself with 
the surrounding conditions, he asked our bat- 
terymen for a volunteer to burn the bridge. To 
accomplish this would involve extreme danger, 
as the moment a light was struck for the pur- 
pose a hundred shots could be expected from 
the opposite end, not more than seventy-five 



208 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

yards away. However, William Effinger, of 
Harrisonburg, Virginia, one of our cannoneers, 
promptly volunteered to undertake it ; and soon 
had the bridge in flames, the enemy not firing a 
shot. For this gallant and daring act, Effinger, 
after a long time, received a lieutenant's com- 
mission and was assigned to another branch of 
the service. 

From this perilous situation we came off sur- 
prisingly well, but lost Eobert Bell, of Win- 
chester, Virginia. He was struck by a large 
piece of shell, which passed through his body. 
During the hour he survived, his companions 
who could leave their posts went to say good- 
by. He was a brave soldier and a modest, un- 
assuming gentleman as well. The Federals, sat- 
isfied with the capture of the two celebrated 
brigades without loss to themselves, withdrew 
— and again we returned to the vicinity of 
Brandy Station. 

In an artillery company two sentinels are 
kept on post — one to see after the guns and am- 
munition, the other to catch and tie loose horses 
or extricate them when tangled in their halters, 
and the like. Merrick's name and mine, being 
together on the roll, we were frequently on 
guard at the same time, and, to while away the 
tedious hours of the night, would seek each oth- 
er's company. Our turn came while in this camp 
one dark, chilly night ; the rain falling fast and 
the wind moaning through the leafless woods. 
As we stood near a fitful fire, Merrick, appar- 
ently becoming oblivious of the dismal sur- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 209 

roundings, began to sing. He played the role 
of a lover serenading his sweetheart, opening 
with some lively air to attract her attention. 
The pattering of the rain he const rued as her 
tread to the lattice; then poured forth his soul 
in deepest pathos (the progress of his suit be- 
ing interpreted, aside, to me), and again fixed 
his gaze on the imaginary window. Each sound 
made by the storm he explained as some rec- 
ognition: the creaking of a bent tree was the 
gentle opening of the casement, and the timely 
falling of a bough broken by the wind was a 
bouquet thrown to his eager grasp, over which 
he went into raptures. Whether the inspiration 
was due to a taste of some stimulant or to his 
recurring moods of intense imagination, I could 
not say, but the performance was genuinely 
artistic. 

During the last night of our sojourn in this 
camp I had another experience of as fully ab- 
sorbing interest. A very tough piece of beef 
(instead of quail) for supper proved more than 
my digestive organs could stand. After retir- 
ing to my bunk several sleepless hours passed 
wrestling with my burden. About one o'clock, 
the struggle being over, with an intense feel- 
ing of comfort I was falling into a sound sleep 
when I heard, in the distance, the shrill note of 
a bugle, then another and another, as camp af- 
ter camp was invaded by urgent couriers ; then 
our own bugle took up the alarm and sounded 
the call to hitch up. Meantime, drums were roll- 
ing, till the hitherto stillness of night had be- 



210 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

come a din of noise. We packed up and pulled 
out through the woods in the dark, with gun 
No. 1. to which I belonged, the rear one of the 
battery. A small bridge, spanning a ditch about 
five feet deep, had been passed over safely by 
the other guns and caissons in front, but when 
my gun-carriage was midway on it the whole 
structure collapsed. The struggle the detach- 
ment of men and horses underwent during the 
rest of this night of travail constituted still an- 
other feature of the vicissitudes of " merry 
war." Fortunately for us, Lieut. Jack Jordan 
was in charge, and, as Rockbridge men can tes- 
tify, any physical difficulty that could not be 
successfully overcome by a Jordan, where men 
and horses were involved, might well be de- 
spaired of. 

After reaching the Rapidan, a day was spent 
skirmishing with the enemy's artillery on the 
hills beyond. After which both sides withdrew 
— we to our former camps. 

A short time thereafter I called on my old 
friends of the College company, whom we sel- 
dom met since our severance from the Stonewall 
Brigade. Two of these college boys, Tedford 
Barclay and George Chapin, told me that a re- 
cent provision had been announced, to the effect 
that a commission would be granted to any pri- 
vate who should perform some act of conspicu- 
ous gallantry in battle, and they had each re- 
solved to earn the offered reward, and to be pri- 
vates no longer. They were tired of carrying 
muskets and cartridge-boxes; and, in the next 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 211 

fight, as they expressed it, they had determined 
to be "distinguished or extinguished. ' ' 

The determined manner with which it was 
said impressed me, so that I awaited results 
with interest. A fortnight had not elapsed be- 
fore their opportunity came, and they proved 
true to their resolve. Under a galling fire their 
regiment hesitated to advance, when the two 
]ads pushed to the front of the line of battle 
and climbed an intervening fence. Chapin was 
killed, and Barclay, who survives to this day, 
received for his daring courage the promised 
commission as lieutenant. 



CHAPTEE XXIV 

BATTLE OF MINE RUN MARCH TO 

HALL WINTER-QUARTERS SOCIAL AFFAIRS 

AGAIN TO THE FRONT NARROW ESCAPE FROM 

CAPTURE BY GENERAL DAHLGREN FURLOUGHS 

CADETS RETURN FROM NEW MARKET SPOTT- 

SYLVANIA AND THE WILDERNESS RETURN TO 

ARMY AT HANOVER JUNCTION PANIC AT 

NIGHT 

The movement in which we were next en- 
gaged included the battle of Mine Eun, which 
has been designated by a military critic as "a 
campaign of strategy," an account of which is, 
therefore, not within my province. The Feder- 
als on this occasion did most of the marching 
and, after crossing the Eapidan at several dif- 
ferent fords, were confronted not far from our 
quarters at Mine Eun, in Orange County. After 
breaking camp our first intimation that a bat- 
tle was expected was the invariable profusion 
of playing-cards along the road. I never saw 
or heard of a Bible or prayer-book being cast 
aside at such a time, but cards were always 
thrown away by soldiers going into battle. 

After a spirited engagement between John- 
son's division and Warren's corps, the Feder- 

212 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 21S 

als lost time sufficient for the Confederates to 
construct a formidable line of breastworks. The 
position occupied by our battery was in the 
midst of a brigade of North Carolinians who 
had seen some service in their own State, but 
had never participated in a real battle. From 
a Federal shell, which burst some distance over- 
head, a thin piece twirled downward and fell 
like a leaf within a few feet of our gun. I saw 
one of their lieutenants, who was lying in the 
trench, eye it suspiciously, then creep out and 
pick it up. Presently the colonel of his regi- 
ment passed along and the lieutenant said, as 
he held up the trophy, "Colonel, just look at 
this. I was lying right here, and it fell right 
there/' This brigade had no occasion to test 
its mettle until the following spring, but then, 
in the great battle of Spottsylvania, it fought 
gallantlv and lost its general — Gary — who was 
killed. 

Naturally, after such a determined advance 
on the part of the Federals, a general attack 
was expected; but, after spending two days 
threatening different portions of our lines, 
they withdrew in the night, leaving only men 
sufficient to keep their camp-fires burning for 
a time, as a ruse. The road along which we 
followed them for some miles was strewn at 
intervals with feathers from the beds of the peo- 
ple whose houses they had ransacked. 

It was now October, and the chilly autumn 
nights suggested retiring to more comfortable 
surroundings. Our battalion of artillery was 



214 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ordered to Frederick's Hall, on the Chesapeake 
and Ohio Railroad, about fifty miles from Rich- 
mond. In this neighborhood there were quite a 
number of nice people, whose society and hos- 
pitality afforded those of us so inclined much 
agreeable entertainment. A white paper-collar 
became no unusual sight, but when two of our 
members appeared one afternoon adorned with 
blue cravats a sensation was created. 

A member of our battery returned from a 
visit to a family of former acquaintances some 
twelve miles from camp, and brought an invi- 
tation for some of his friends to accompany him 
on his next visit. Soon thereafter four of us 
went, through a drizzling rain, I riding a blind 
horse, the others on foot. Night overtook us 
soon after leaving camp, and when, within a 
mile of our destination, we asked at a house by 
the roadside for directions as to the way, a 
gruff voice informed us that an intervening 
creek was too high to cross, and insisted on our 
coming in and spending the night. We declined 
this, and the man said, "Well, I'll send a negro 
boy with you; but you'll have to come back," 
which proved to be the case. On our return 
we were boisterously welcomed. A blazing fire 
of dry pine soon lit up the room, with its clean, 
bare floor, and disclosed the figure of our host 
— Peter Johnson by name — a stout, burly man, 
clad in homespun and a fur cap. He said his 
wife and children had been "a-bed" since dark, 
were tired of his jokes, and that he was delight- 
ed to have a fresh audience; that it was past 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 215 

supper-time and some hours before breakfast, 
but that fasting was nothing new to Confeder- 
ate soldiers. The names of two of our party, 
McGorkle and McClintic, he said, were too long 
and that he would call them Cockle and Flint, 
but before proceeding further he would give us 
some music. Forthwith he produced a short 
flute, took a seat on the foot of the stairs (in 
the far corner of the room), and played "The 
Devil's Dream,' ' "The Arkansas Traveler," 
etc., beating time with his foot. 

Here we passed the night in comfortable 
beds and, after a bountiful breakfast, left with 
a pressing invitation to return for a rabbit- 
chase with his hounds, which we gladly accepted 
and afterward enjoyed. This was typical of 
eastern Virginia and her hospitable, whole- 
souled "Tuckahoes," whose houses were never 
too full for them to hail a passer-by and com- 
pel him to come in. This interruption detracted 
nothing from the pleasure of the visit for which 
we had originally set out. 

A short time after our return to Frederick's 
Hall our whole artillery command narrowly es- 
caped capture by a band of cavalry raiders un- 
der command of Colonel Dahlgren. About fifty 
of the cannoneers of the battalion had been fur- 
nished with muskets and regularly exercised in 
the infantry drill. When the raiders arrived 
within a mile of our winter-quarters they in- 
quired of the country people as to the charac- 
ter of troops occupying our camp, and were in- 
formed by some negroes that the "men had 



216 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

muskets with bayonets on them." As infantry 
was not what they were seeking, they gave us 
the go-by and passed on toward Richmond, the 
capture of which was the chief object of the 
expedition. In the attack on Richmond, which 
occurred in the night, Dahlgren was killed and 
his command defeated with heavy loss. 

Encouraged by the visit already mentioned, I 
accompanied my friend, Tom Williamson, on a 
visit by rail to his relations, the Garnetts, near 
Hanover Junction; thence, after spending the 
night, to some friends in Caroline County. On 
our return to camp we found preparations on 
foot for a move to the front, and although we 
left camp by eleven o'clock that night not more 
than three or four miles was traveled by day- 
light. In the darkness one of our twenty- 
pounders went over a thirty-foot embankment, 
carrying the drivers and eight horses into the 
mud and water at its base. 

While on the march later in the day, to save 
distance, I undertook to pass near a house, in 
the yard of which were two men with a large 
Newfoundland dog. A smaller dog, chained to 
the corner of the house, broke loose as I passed 
and viciously seized the tail of my overcoat. 
Instantly, to my dismay, the large dog left the 
men and dashed straight for me; but, instead 
of rending me, knocked my assailant heels over 
head and held him down until secured by the 
men and chained. 

Before reaching the front, it was learned that 
we had been called out on a false alarm. Our 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 217 

return to Frederick's Hall was by a more cir- 
cuitous route, near which was an establishment 
where apple-brandy was for sale. The stock had 
been heavily watered, and the price of shares 
(in a drink), even then, too far above par for 
eleven dollars a month to afford scarcely more 
than a smell. However, after reaching camp, 
more than ordinary wrestling and testing of 
strength were indulged in. 

Two years had elapsed since any furloughs 
had been given, except to the sick and wound- 
ed. The granting of them was now revived, and 
those who had been longest from home were, of 
course, to be served first. My turn came in 
March. I shall never forget the impression 
made on me as I sat at the supper-table at 
home, on the evening of my arrival. My father, 
mother, sisters, and little niece were present; 
and, after the noise, loud talking, etc., in camp, 
the quiet was painful. It was just as it had 
always been, except the vacant places of the 
boys at the front; still, I felt that something 
was wrong. Equally as impressive was the 
mild diet of cold bread, milk, and weak-looking 
tea. The effect was the same as that produced 
by a sudden transition from a low to a high 
altitude, or vice versa, requiring time for adap- 
tation, as I soon experienced. My fifteen days' 
leave of absence having expired, I returned to 
camp. 

To induce the boys who were under age, and 
still at home, to enlist, a thirty-day furlough 
was offered to every soldier who would secure 



218 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

a recruit for the service. By this means many- 
boys of only fifteen or sixteen years joined the 
army, to enable a long-absent kinsman to get 
home. McClintic, of my mess, got this furlough 
by the enlistment of his brother, and while at 
home drummed up the son of a neighbor, Will- 
iam Barger, whom he brought back with him 
to repeat the operation. To allowing this sec- 
ond furlough the authorities, right or wrong, 
objected. The matter was compromised by Mc- 
Clintic very generously assigning the young 
recruit to my credit, by which I got the fur- 
lough. 

Before my return to the army, at the expira- 
tion of the thirty days, the Grant campaign had 
opened and the great battles of the Wilderness 
and Spottsylvania had been fought. Our bat- 
tery had escaped without serious loss, as the 
character of the country afforded little oppor- 
tunity for the use of artillery. From Staunton 
I traveled on a freight train with the cadets of 
the Virginia Military Institute and their pro- 
fessors, who were now the conspicuous heroes 
of the hour, having just won immortal fame in 
their charge, on May 15, at New Market. 
Among the professors was my friend and for- 
mer messmate, Frank Preston, with an empty 
sleeve, now captain of a cadet company, and 
Henry A. Wise, Jr., who took command of the 
cadets after the wounding of Colonel Shipp, 
their commandant. 

Our army was now near Hanover Junction, 
twenty-five miles from Eichmond, and engaged 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 219 

in its death struggle with Grant's countless le- 
gions. If any one period of the four years of 
the war were to be selected as an example of 
Southern endurance and valor, it probably 
should be the campaign from the Wilderness, 
beginning May 5 and closing a month later at 
Petersburg, in which the Confederate army, 
numbering 64,000 half -clothed, half -fed men, 
successfully resisted a splendidly equipped 
army of .140,000— inflicting a loss of 60,000 
killed and wounded. 

Much has been said and written concerning 
the comparative equipment, etc., of the two ar- 
mies. A striking reference to it I heard in a 
conversation at General Lee's home in Lexing- 
ton after the war. Of the students who attended 
Washington College during Ms presidency he al- 
ways requested a visit to himself whenever they 
returned to the town. With this request they 
were very ready to comply. While performing 
this pleasant duty one evening, during a visit to 
my ^ld home in Lexington, Mrs. Lee, sitting in 
her invalid-chair, was discoursing to me, feel- 
ingly, on the striking contrast between the 
ragged clothing worn by Confederate soldiers 
as compared with that worn by the Federals, 
as she had seen the Federal troops entering 
Richmond after its evacuation. The General, 
who was pacing the floor, paused for a moment, 
his eye lighting up, and, at the conclusion of 
her remarks, said, as he inclined forward with 
that superb grace, "But, ah! Mistress Lee, we 



220 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

gave them some awfully hard knocks, with all 
of our rags ! ' ' 

After parting with my cadet friends at 
Hanover Junction, soon after day-dawn, I 
readily found our battery bivouacking in sight 
of the station. Some of the men were lying 
asleep; those who had risen seemed not yet 
fully awake. All looked ten years older than 
when I had bidden them good-by a month be- 
fore — hollow-eyed, unwashed, jaded, and hun- 
gry; paper-collars and blue neckties shed and 
forgotten. The contents of my basket (boxes 
were now obsolete), consisting of pies sweet- 
ened with sorghum molasses, and other such 
edibles, were soon devoured, and I reported 
1 ■ returned for duty. ' ' In a few hours we were 
on the road to Richmond, with the prospect of 
another sojourn in the surrounding swamps. 

On the night of June 1 our battery was 
bivouacked in the edge of a dense piece of 
woods, the guns being parked in open ground 
just outside, while the men were lying in the 
leaves, with the horses tied among them. About 
midnight one of the horses became tangled in 
his halter and fell to the ground, struggling 
and kicking frantically to free himself. A man 
close by, being startled from sleep, began hal- 
loaing, "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" The alarm was 
taken up by one after another as each roused 
from slumber, increasing and spreading the 
noise and confusion; by this time the horses 
had joined in, pawing and snorting in ter- 
ror, completing the reign of pandemonium. As 




Edward H. Hyde 

(Color-tearer) 



FACING 220 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 221 

darkness prevented successful running, some of 
the men climbed trees or clung to them for pro- 
tection, while the sentinel over the guns in the 
open broke from his beat, supposing Grant's 
cavalry was upon us. In a space of two min- 
utes all suddenly became still, the climbers 
stealthily slid from their trees, and others gin- 
gerly picked their way back to their lairs, 
"ashamed as men who flee in battle." For 
some time, as the cause and absurdity of the 
incident was realized, there issued now and 
then from a pi]e of leaves a chuckle of sup- 
pressed laughter. 



CHAPTER XXV 

SECOND COLD HAEBOE WOUNDED EETUEN HOME 

EEFUGEEING FEOM HUNTEE 

Aftee spending the following day and night 
in "Camp Panic," we moved forward early on 
the morning of June 3 to the field of the memo- 
rable second Cold Harbor. Minie-balls were 
rapping against the trees as we drove through 
a copse of small timber to occupy a temporary 
redoubt in the line of breastworks beyond. 
While the guns halted briefly before driving in 
to unlhnber, I walked forward to see what was 
in front. The moment I came into view a Minie- 
ball sung by my head and passed through the 
clothes of the cannoneer, Barton McCrum, who 
was a few steps from me, suggesting to both of 
us to lie low until called for as videttes. Perch- 
ed in the tops of the trees beyond the half-mile 
of open field in our front, the enemy's sharp- 
shooters, with telescope sights on their rifles, 
blazed away at every moving object along our 
line. It was noon before their artillery opened 
on us, and, in the firing which ensued, a large 
barn a hundred yards in our front was set on 
fire by a shell and burned to the ground. 

An hour or two later, during this brisk can- 
222 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 223 

nonade, I, being No. 3, stood with my thumb on 
the vent as the gun was being loaded. From a 
shell which exploded a few yards in front I 
was struck on the breast by the butt-end, weigh- 
ing not ]ess than three pounds, and at the same 
time by a smaller piece on the thigh. After 
writhing for a time I was accompanied to our 
surgeon in the rear. The brass button on my 
jacket, which I still have as a memento, was 
cut almost in two and the shirt button under- 
neath driven to the breast-bone, besides other 
smaller gashes. A large contusion was made 
by the blow on my thigh, and my clothing was 
very much torn. After my wounds had been 
dressed I passed the night at the quarters of 
my friend and fellow-townsman, Capt. Charles 
Estill, of the Ordnance Department, who al- 
ready had in charge his brother Jack, wounded 
in a cavalry engagement the day before. 

An hour after dark, as I sat by the light of a 
camp-fire, enjoying the relief and rest, as well 
as the agreeable company of old friends, the 
rattle of musketry two miles away had gradu- 
ally increased into the proportions of a fierce 
battle. The feelings of one honorably out of 
such a conflict, but listening in perfect security, 
may be better imagined than described. This, 
like a curfew bell, signaled the close of a day 
of frightful and probably unparalleled carnage. 
Within the space of a single hour in the fore- 
noon the Federal army had been three times 
repulsed with a loss of thirteen thousand men 
killed and wounded; after which their troops, 



224 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

firmly refused to submit themselves to further 
butchery. This statement is made on the evi- 
dence of Northern historians. 

After a night's rest I was sent to Richmond, 
where I received a transfer to a hospital in 
Staunton. Sheridan's cavalry having inter- 
rupted travel over the Virginia Central Rail- 
road, I went by rail to Lynchburg, via the 
Southside Road, with Captain Semmes and 
eight or ten cadets on their return to Lexing- 
ton with artillery horses pressed into service. 
Learning, in Lynchburg, that Hunter's army 
was near Staunton, I continued with the cadets, 
riding one of their artillery horses, but was too 
much exhausted to proceed far, and stopped for 
the night on the way. Here I learned from 
refugees that Hunter was advancing toward 
Lexington. As the whole country seemed now 
to be overrun by the Federals, to avoid them 
was very difficult. 

I resumed my journey toward home, fre- 
quently meeting acquaintances who were seek- 
ing safety elsewhere. When within four or five 
miles of the town, while ascending a long hill, I 
heard the sound of a drum and fife not far 
ahead. Presently I recognized the tune played 
to be "Yankee Doodle." I could not believe it 
to be the vanguard of Hunter's army, but what 
on earth could it be? However, at the top of 
the hill I saw a train of refugee wagons pre- 
ceded by two negroes who were making the 
music. 

I remained at home only a day and a night, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 225 

at the expiration of which time General Mc- 
Causland (the first captain of our battery) with 
his brigade of cavalry was within a mile of 
town, closely pursued by Hunter's whole army. 
I spent half of the night assisting my mother 
and the servants (our slaves) to conceal from 
the marauders what flour, bacon, etc., the fam- 
ily still had; and before sunrise the next morn- 
ing set out, mounted on my father's horse, for 
a safer place. By this time my wounds had be- 
come very painful, and my leg had turned a 
dark -blue color from the thigh to the knee. 

A brief account of my experience while refu- 
geeing may be of interest, as it will give an idea 
of the horror with which our non-combatants 
regarded the invasion of their homes by our 
fellow-countrymen of the North, who had now 
resorted to fire, after learning by bitter experi- 
ence that the sword alone could not restore us 
to the blessings of the Union. 

My destination was the home of my aunt, 
Mrs. Allen, forty miles distant, in Bedford 
County. After passing through the gap be- 
tween the two peaks of Otter, I reached my 
aunt's and found there three officers from 
Louisiana recovering from wounds. After a 
respite of two days one of the officers, on his 
return from a neighbor's, brought information 
that McCausland's command was approaching 
through the mountain-pass, with Hunter in 
close pursuit. In a few hours our house of 
refuge was overrun by McCausland's hungry 
soldiers. Again I went through the process of 



226 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

helping to hide valuables and packing up what 
was to be hauled away. I started at dawn next 
morning with the officers, leaving my aunt and 
her three daughters very forlorn and unpro- 
tected. When I left she gave me the pistol 
which her son Robert, colonel of the Twenty- 
eighth Virginia Regiment, was wearing when 
he fell in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. In 
our care were the loaded wagons, negro men, 
lowing cows, and bleating sheep. 

That afternoon, after exchanging my gray 
for a fleet-footed cavalry horse ridden by one 
of the officers, I rode back from our place of 
hiding, some miles south of Liberty, to recon- 
noiter ; but, after passing through the town, met 
General McCausland at the head of his brigade 
falling back toward Lynchburg, and rode back 
a short distance with him to return to my party 
of refugees, who meantime had moved farther 
on. Next day I stopped at a house by the way- 
side to get dinner, and had just taken my seat 
at the table when there arose a great commo- 
tion outside, with cries of " Yankee cavalry! 
Yankee cavalry ! " Stepping to the door, I saw 
a stream of terrified school-children crying as 
they ran by, and refugees flying for the woods. 
In a moment I was on my fleet-footed dun, not 
taking time to pick up a biscuit of my untasted 
dinner nor the pillow worn between my crippled 
leg and the saddle, and joined in the flight. I 
had noticed a yearling colt in the yard of the 
house as I entered, and in five minutes after I 
started a twelve-year-old bov mounted ou the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 227 

little thing, barebacked, shot by me with the 
speed of a greyhound. A hundred yards far- 
ther on I overtook some refugee wagons from 
about Lexington, whose owners had left them 
on the road and betaken themselves to the 
woods; but there still stood by them a mulatto 
man of our town — Lindsay Eeid by name — who 
indignantly refused to be routed, and was doing 
his utmost, with voice and example, to stem the 
tide, saying, "It is a shame to fear anything; 
let's stand and give them a fight!" 

A moment later a negro boy rode by at. a gal- 
lop in the direction from which the alarm came. 
In reply to the inquiry as to where he was go- 
ing, he called out, "After Marse William." Be- 
lying on him as a picket, I remained in view of 
the road. In ten minutes he appeared, return- 
ing at full speed, and called out to me, as he 
rode up, that he had "run almost into them." 
They were close behind, and I. must "fly or be 
caught." I was well alongside of him as he 
finished the warning, and for half a mile our 
horses ran neck and neck. He said he would 
take me to his old master's, an out-of-the-way 
place, several miles distant. Arriving there, a 
nice country house and very secluded, I con- 
cealed my horse in the woods as best I could 
and went to the house, where I was welcomed 
and cared for by two young ladies and their 
aged father, Mr. Hurt, who was blind. I was 
now much exhausted, and determined to take a 
rest, with the chances of being captured. The 
occasion of the alarm was a body of Federal 



228 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

cavalry which had been sent on a raid to meet 
Hunter's army, advancing on Lynchburg. 

After two days in this quiet abode I set out 
to make my way past the rear of Hunter's army 
and eventually to reach home. On the way to 
Liberty I was informed that a train of Hun- 
ter's wagons and many negroes, under a cav- 
alry escort, were then passing northward 
through the town. To satisfy myself (being 
again mounted on my father's gray) I rode to 
the top of a hill overlooking the place. Then a 
strikingly pretty young lady of about sixteen, 
bareheaded (although it was not then the fash- 
ion), and almost out of breath, who had seen 
me coming into danger, ran to meet me and 
called, "For God's sake, fly; the town is full 
of Yankees ! ' ' Many years after the war a lady 
friend of Norfolk, Virginia, who was refugee- 
ing in Liberty at the time, told me that she had 
witnessed the incident, and said that the girl 
who had run out to warn me had afterward 
married a Federal officer. I then went around 
the town and crossed the road a mile west of 
it, learning that the wagon-train, etc., had all 
passed. 

From this place on, throughout the territory 
over which this patriotic army had operated, 
were the desolated homes of helpless people, 
stripped of every valuable they possessed, and 
outraged at the wanton destruction of their 
property, scarcely knowing how to repair the 
damage or to take up again their broken for- 
tunes. Night had now fallen, but a bright moon 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 229 

rather added to the risks of continuing my jour- 
ney. An old negro man, however, kindly agreed 
to pilot me through fields and woods, avoiding 
the highways, "as far as Colonel Nichol's" (his 
master's). When near his destination he went 
ahead to reconnoiter, and soon returned from 
the house, accompanied by one of the ladies, 
who told me that their house and premises had 
been overrun by Yankees all day, and that some 
of them were still prowling about, and, in her 
fright, pointed to each bush as an armed foe. 

Camp-fires still burning enabled me to steer 
clear of the road, but it was midnight when I 
reached my aunt's, and, going to the negro cab- 
in farthest from her dwelling, I succeeded, after 
a long time, in getting " Uncle" Mose to ven- 
ture out of his door. He said he thought the 
Yankees were all gone, but to wait till he crept 
up to the house and let "Ole Miss" know I was 
about. He reported the way clear, and I was 
soon in the side porch. After the inmates were 
satisfied as to my identity, the door was opened 
just enough for me to squeeze through. The 
family, consisting of females, including the 
overseer's wife, who had come for protection, 
quietly collected in the sitting-room, where a 
tallow candle, placed not to attract attention 
from outside, shed a dim light over my ghost- 
like companions clad in their night-dresses. The 
younger ladies were almost hysterical, and all 
looked as if they had passed through a fearful 
storm at sea, as various experiences were re- 
counted. The house had been ransacked from 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

garret to cellar, and what could not be devoured 
or carried off was scattered about, and such 
things as sugar, vinegar, flour, salt, etc., con- 
glomerately mixed. The only food that escaped 
was what the negroes had in their cabins, and 
this they freely divided with the whites. 

The next day I concealed myself and horse 
in the woods, and was lying half-asleep when 
I heard footsteps stealthily approaching 
through the leaves. Presently a half -grown ne- 
gro, carrying a small basket, stumbled almost 
on me. He drew back, startled at my question, 
"What do you want?" and replied, "Nothin'; 
I jus' gwine take ' Uncle' Mose he dinner. He 
wo r kin' in de fiel' over yander." My dinner 
was to be sent by a boy named Phil, so I said, 
"Is that you, Phil?" "Lordy! Is that you, 
Marse Eddie? I thought you was a Yankee! 
Yas, dis is me, and here's yer dinner I done 
brung yer." Phil, who belonged to my aunt, 
had run off several weeks before, but of his 
own accord had returned the preceding day, 
and this was our first meeting. 

As Hunter's army was still threatening 
Lynchburg, to avoid the scouting-parties scour- 
ing the country in his rear I set out on Sunday 
morning to make my way back to Lexington by 
Peteet's Gap. I was scarcely out of sight — in 
fact one of my cousins, as I learned afterward, 
ran to the porch to assure herself that I was 
gone — when twenty-five or thirty Federal cav- 
alry, accompanied by a large, black dog, and 
guided by one of my aunt's negroes armed and 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 231 

dressed in Federal uniform, galloped into the 
yard and searched the honse for "rebel sol- 
diers." Passing through the Federal camp- 
ground, from among the numerous household 
articles, etc., I picked up a book, on the fly-leaf 
of which was written, "Captured at Washing- 
ton College, Lexington, Rockingham County, 
Virginia." That afternoon, as I was slowly toil- 
ing up the steep mountain path almost over- 
grown with ferns, I was stopped by an old, 
white-bearded mountaineer at a small gate 
which he held open for me. While asking for 
the news, after I had dismounted, he noticed the 
split button on my coat and my torn trousers, 
and, pausing for a moment, he said, very sol- 
emnly, "Well, you ought to be a mighty good 
young man." I asked why he thought so. 
"Well," said he, "the hand of God has certainly 
been around you." 

That night I spent at Judge Anderson's, in 
Arnold's Valley, and the next day reached Lex- 
ington — a very different Lexington from the 
one I had left a fortnight before. The Virginia 
Military Institute barracks, the professors' 
houses, and Governor Letcher's private home 
had been burned, and also all neighboring mills, 
etc., while the intervening and adjacent grounds 
were one great desolate common. Preparations 
had also been made to burn Washington Col- 
lege, when my father, who was a trustee of that 
institution, called on General Hunter, and, by 
explaining that it was endowed by and named 
in honor of General Washington, finally sue- 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ceeded in preventing its entire destruction, al- 
though much valuable apparatus, etc., had al- 
ready been destroyed. 

Comparisons are odious, but the contrast be- 
tween the conduct of Northern and Southern 
soldiers during their invasions of each other's 
territory is very striking and suggestive; espe- 
cially when taken in connection with the fact 
that the Federal army, from first to last, num- 
bered twenty-eight hundred thousand men, and 
the Confederates not more than six hundred 
and fifty thousand. 

General Early, with three divisions, having 
been despatched from the army near Richmond, 
had reached Lynchburg in time to prevent its 
occupancy by Hunter, who promptly retreated, 
and his army soon became a mass of fugitives, 
struggling through the mountains of West Vir- 
ginia on to the Ohio River. The Confederates 
at Lynchburg, all told, numbered 11,000 men, 
the Federals 20,000. 

An incident which occurred in Rockbridge 
County, the participants in which were of the 
"cradle and grave' ' classes, deserves mention. 
Maj. Angus McDonald, aged seventy, having 
four sons in our army, set out from Lexing- 
ton with his fourteen-year-old son Harry, refu- 
geeing. They were joined, near the Natural 
Bridge, by Mr. Thomas Wilson, a white-haired 
old man ; and the three determined to give bat- 
tle to Hunter's army. From a hastily construct- 
ed shelter of rails and stones they opened, with 
shotguns and pistols, on his advance guard, but, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 233 

of course, were quickly overpowered. Mr. Wil- 
son was left for dead on the ground, and the 
McDonalds captured. The father was taken to 
a Northern prison, but Harry made his escape 
by night in the mountains, and in turn captured 
a Federal soldier, whom I saw him turn over 
to the provost on his return to Lexington. Gen- 
eral Early pursued Hunter no farther than 
Botetourt County, and thence passed through 
Lexington on his disastrous campaign toward 
Washington. 






CHAPTER XXVI 

PERSONAL MENTION OF OFFICERS AND MEN — ROCK- 
BRIDGE ARTILLERY — SECOND ROCKBRIDGE ARTIL- 
LERY 

As has already been mentioned, the captain 
under whom the battery was mustered into ser- 
vice was the Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton, rector of 
the Episcopal Church in Lexington, Virginia, 
who, after the first battle of Manassas, became 
chief of artillery of the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia. His only son, Alexander S. Pendleton, 
graduated at Washington College at the age of 
18. He entered the army from the University 
of Virginia at the beginning of the war as lieu- 
tenant on General Jackson's staff, and rose 
through the various grades of promotion to the 
rank of lieutenant-colonel. After General Jack- 
son's death he continued to fill the position of 
adjutant to the succeeding commanders of the 
corps until he fell in battle near Winchester, in 
1864. He was one of the bravest and most effi- 
cient staff officers in the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia. 

The captains of the battery under whom I 
served were three uncommonly brave and capa- 
ble officers. 

234 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 235 

The first, William McLaughlin, after making 
an enviable record with the company, distin- 
guished himself as commander of a battalion 
of artillery in General Early's company in 1864. 

The second, Captain W. T. Poague, whose 
reputation for efficiency and courage won for 
him the command of a battalion of artillery in 
A. P. Hill's corps, was amply equipped with 
both intelligence and valor to have handled an 
army division with credit to himself and ad- 
vantage to the service. 

The third, Archibald Graham, who was ap- 
pointed a sergeant upon the organization of the 
company, then elected a lieutenant, and for the 
]ast two years of the war captain, had the dis- 
tinction of having been in every engagement in 
which the battery took part from Hainesville, 
in 1861, to Appomattox in 1865. His dreamy, 
brown eyes kindled most at the sound of good 
music, and where the noise of battle was great- 
est, and shells flew thickest, there Graham lin- 
gered, as if courting danger. 

Our First Lieut. W. M. Brown, a brave offi- 
cer, wounded and captured at Gettysburg, re- 
mained in prison from that time until the close 
of the war. 

Lieut. J. B. McCorkle, a noble fellow and 
recklessly brave> was killed at first Fredericks- 
burg. 

As stated in this paper, besides those regu- 
larly enrolled in the company were men who 
did more or less service with it, but whose 
names do not appear on the roll, For example, 



(I 



236 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Bernard Wolfe, of Martinsburg, served in this 
capacity for a time previous to and in the first 
battle of Manassas, and later became major of 
commissary on General Pendleton's staff. 

Chapman Maupin, of Charlottesville, son of 
Professor Maupin, of the University of Vir- 
ginia, served during part of the campaign of 
1862, was with the battery In several battles, 
and enlisted afterward in the Signal Corps. 

That so many intelligent and educated men 
from outside of Rockbridge were attracted to 
this company was primarily due to the fact that 
the Rev. W. N. Pendleton, its captain until after 
first Manassas, was a graduate of West Point 
and was widely known as a clergyman and 
educator. After his promotion the character 
of the company itself accomplished the same 
effect. 

Of the names on the roll there were four 
A.M.'s and a score of students of the Univer- 
sity of Virginia. There were at least twenty 
graduates of Washington College, and as many 
undergraduates, and many graduates and stu- 
dents of other colleges. 

Among the privates in the company was a 
son and namesake of General R. E. Lee,iwhose 
'presence in such a capacity was characteristic 
of his noble father, when it seemed so natural 
and surely the custom to have provided him 
with a commission. That the son should have 
the instincts and attributes of a soldier was not 
surprising; but, with these inherited gifts, his 
individuality, in which uniform cheerfulness, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 237 

consideration for others, and enjoyment of fun 
were prominent features, won for him the es- 
teem and affection of his comrades. When it 
fell to his lot, as a cannoneer, to supply tempo- 
rarily the place of a sick or wounded driver, he 
handled and cared for his horses as diligently 
and with as much pride as when firing a gun. 

Two sons of Ex-President Tyler, one of whom 
— Gardiner — represented his district in Con- 
gress. 

A son of Commodore Porter, of the United 
States Navy. 

Walter and Joseph Packard, descendants of 
Charles Lee, who was a brother of Light-Horse 
Harry Lee. 

The beautiful character of Eandolph Fairfax, 
a descendant of Lord Fairfax, who was killed 
on December 13, 1862, on that fatal hill near 
Fredericksburg, has been worthily portrayed in 
a memoir by the Eev. Philip Slaughter. More 
than ten thousand copies of this memoir were 
distributed through the army at the expense of 
General Lee, Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, and other 
officers and men, and no better idea of the ex- 
alted character of young Fairfax can be con- 
veyed, than by extracts copied from this little 
volume : 
" 'Eev. P. Slaughter. 

" 'Dear Sir: Please receive enclosed a con- 
tribution ($100) to the very laudable work al- 
luded to in church by you to-day. It is very 
desirable to place the example of Private Ean- 






238 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

dolph Fairfax before every soldier of the army. 
I am particularly desirous that my command 
should have the advantage of such a Christian 
light to guide them on their way. How invin- 
cible would an army of such men be ! — men who 
never murmur and who never flinch! 
< < < Very truly yours, 

" < J. E. B. Stuabt.' 

' ' Berkeley Minor says : 

' ' ' I knew Randolph Fairfax at the University 
quite well, but not so intimately as I did after 
he joined this company (the Rockbridge Bat- 
tery). For several months before his death I 
was his messmate and bedfellow, and was able 
to note more fully the tone of earnest piety that 
pervaded his words and actions. He was un- 
selfish, modest, and uniformly kind and consid- 
erate to all. If there was one trait in him more 
striking than others, it was his calm, earnest, 
trustful demeanor in time of battle, resulting, I 
believe, from his abiding trust in the providence 
and love of God. Many fine young men have 
been removed by death from this company, yet 
I do not think that any has been more deeply 
lamented than he.' 

"Joseph. Packard, another of his comrades, 
writes : 

" 'His cheerful courage, his coolness and 
steadiness, made him conspicuous in every bat- 
tlefield. At the battle of Malvern Hill, where he 
had received a wound which nine men out of ten 
would have considered an excuse for retiring 
from the awful scene, he persisted in remaining 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 239 

at his post, and did the work of two until the 
battery had left the field. But it was in the bear- 
ing, more than in the daring, of the soldier's life 
that his lovely character displayed itself. He 
never avoided the most trying and irksome du- 
ties. If he had selfishness, those who knew him 
long and well as schoolmates and comrades nev- 
er discerned it. More than once I have heard 
his beautiful Christian example spoken of by ir- 
religious comrades. Bitter and inexplicable as 
may be the Providence which has removed one 
so full of promise of good to his fellows, I feel 
that we may thank God that we have been per- 
mitted to witness a life so Christ-like terminated 
by a death so noble. ' 

" Captain Poague, commanding the Rock- 
bridge Battery, says in a letter to his father : 

" 'In simple justice to your son, I desire to 
express my high appreciation of his noble char- 
acter as a soldier, a Christian, and gentleman. 
Modest and courteous in his deportment, char- 
itable and unselfish in his disposition, cheerful 
and conscientious in his performance of duty, 
and upright and consistent in his walk and con- 
versation, he was a universal favorite in the 
company, and greatly beloved by his friends. I 
don't think I have ever known a young man 
whose life was so free from the frailties of hu- 
man nature, and whose character in all aspects 
formed so faultless a model for the imitation of 
others. Had his influence been restricted to the 
silent power and beauty of his example, his life 
on earth, short as it was, would not have been 



240 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

in vain. The name of Randolph Fairfax will 
not soon be forgotten by his comrades, and his 
family may be assured that there are many who, 
strangers as they are, deeply sympathize with 
them in their bereavement. ' 

"The following from General Lee will be a fit 
climax to the foregoing tributes: 

1 ' i Camp Fredericksburg, December 28, 1862. 

" 'My dear Doctor: I have grieved most 
deeply at the death of your noble son. I have 
watched his conduct from the commencement of 
the war, and have pointed with pride to the pa- 
triotism, self-denial, and manliness of character 
he has exhibited. I had hoped that an opportu- 
nity would have occurred for the promotion he 
deserved; not that it would have elevated him, 
but have shown that his devotion to duty was 
appreciated by his country. Such an opportu- 
nity would undoubtedly have occurred; but he 
has been translated to a better world for which 
his purity and his piety have eminently fitted 
him. You do not require to be told how great 
his gain. It is the living for whom I sorrow. I 
beg you will offer to Mrs. Fairfax and your 
daughters my heartfelt sympathy, for I know 
the depth of their grief. That God may give 
you and them strength to bear this great afflic- 
tion is the earnest prayer of your early friend, 

" <R. E. Lee.' 

" 'Dr. Orlando Fairfax.' " 

A son and two nephews of Hon. A. R. Bote- 
ler. 




Randolph Fairfax 



FACING 240 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 241 

A son of Governor Gilmer, of Virginia. 

S. H. Letcher, brother of War-Governor John 
Letcher. 

Mercer Otey, graduate of Virginia Military 
Institute and son of Bishop Otey, of Tennessee. 

Launcelot M. Blackford, A.M., of University 
of Virginia, who became adjutant of the Twen- 
ty-sixth Virginia Infantry, and Superintendent 
of the Alexandria High School from the close 
of the war to the present time — forty-one years. 
He has said to the writer since the war that he 
cherished the fact of his having been a private 
in the Rockbridge Artillery with more pride 
than he felt in any honors he has since achieved. 

Robert A. Gibson, of Petersburg, Virginia, 
now a bishop of Virginia. 

Livingston Massie, of Waynesboro, who be- 
came captain of another battery and was killed 
in General Early's battle of Winchester. 

Hugh McGuire, of Winchester, brother of Dr. 
Hunter McGuire, medical director of Jackson's 
corps, whose gallantry won for him a captaincy 
in cavalry and lost him his life on the retreat 
to Appomattox. 

Boyd Faulkner, of Martinsburg, son of Hon. 
Charles J. Faulkner. 

Two Bartons from Winchester. 

Two Maurys and three Minors from Char- 
lottesville. 

Other members of the company, of whom 
much that is interesting could be written, were 
Edgar and Eugene Alexander, of Moorefield, 
West Virginia, uncles of the authoress, Miss 



I 

ginia 



242 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Mary Johnston. The first named lost an arm 
at Fredericksburg, the second had his thigh- 
bone broken at second Manassas. 

William H. Boiling, of Petersburg, Virginia, 
the handsomest of eight handsome brothers and 
a most polished gentleman. 

Holmes Boyd, of Winchester, now a distin- 
guished lawyer of that city. 

Daniel Blaine, of Williamsburg, since the war 
a Presbyterian divine. 

Robert Frazer, of Culpeper, an accomplished 
scholar and prominent educator. 

William L. Gilliam, of Powhatan County. 

Campbell Heiskell, of Moorefield. 

J. K. Hitner, who, though a native of Penn- 
sylvania, fought through the war for the South. 

William F. Johnston, of Rockbridge, a ster- 
ling man and soldier. 

Edward Hyde, of Alexandria, an excellent 
artist, who devoted most of his time in camp 
to drawing sketches of army life. He has re- 
cently written me that his drawings were lost 
in a canoe in which he attempted to cross James 
River on his journey from Appomattox. Oth- 
erwise some of them would have appeared in 
this book. 

Otho Kean, of Goochland County, Virginia. 

John E. McCauley, of Rockbridge, sergeant 
of the battery. 

William S. McClintic, now a prominent citi- 
zen of Missouri. 

D. D. Magruder, of Frederick County, Vir- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON M$ 

Littleton Macon, of Albemarle County, whose 
utterances became proverbial. 

Frank Meade and Frank Nelson, of Albe- 
marle County. 

W. C. Gordon, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Jefferson Ruffin, of Henrico. 

J. M. Shoulder, of Rockbridge. 

W. C. Stuart, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Stevens M. Taylor, of Albemarle County, Vir- 
ginia. 

Charles M. Trueheart, now a physician in 
Galveston, Texas. 

Thomas M. Wade, of Lexington, Virginia. 

W. H. White, of Lexington, Virginia. 

Calvin Wilson, of Cumberland County. 

John Withrow, of Lexington, Virginia. 

William M. Wilson, of Rockbridge, who went 
by the name of " Billy Zu.," abbreviated for 
zouave; and many other fine fellows, most of 
whom have long since " passed over the river." 

A. S. Whitt, gunner of the fourth piece, whose 
failure to throw a twenty-pound shell "within 
a hair's breadth and not miss" could be attrib- 
uted only to defective ammunition. 

In this company were all classes of society 
and all grades of intelligence, from the most 
cultured scholars to the lowest degree of illit- 
eracy. We had men who had formerly been gen- 
tlemen of leisure, lawyers, physicians, students 
of divinity, teachers, merchants, farmers and 
mechanics, ranging in age from boys of seven- 
teen to matured men in the forties and from all 
parts of the South and several from Northern 



244 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

States, as well as Irish and Germans. At one 
camp-fire conld be heard discussions on litera- 
ture, philosophy, science, etc., and at another 
horse-talk. The tone of the company was de- 
cidedly moral, and there was comparatively lit- 
tle profanity. In addition to the services con- 
ducted by the chaplain of the battalion, Eev. 
Henry White, prayer-meetings were regularly 
held by the theological students. Then we had 
men that swore like troopers. " Irish Emmett," 
whose face was dotted with grains of powder 
imbedded under the skin, could growl out oaths 
through half -clenched teeth that chilled one's 
blood. 

One man, Michael, a conscript from another 
county, a full-grown man, weighing perhaps 
one hundred and seventy-five pounds, was a 
chronic cry-baby ; unfit for other service, he was 
assigned assistant at the forge, and would lie 
with face to the ground and moan out, "I want 
to go home, I want to go home," and sob by 
the hour. 

Another, a primitive man from the German 
forests, whose language was scarcely intelligi- 
ble, lived entirely to himself and constructed 
his shelter of brush and leaves — as would a bear 
preparing to hibernate. In his ignorance of the 
use of an axe I saw him, in felling a tree, 
1 ' throw" it so that it fell on and killed a horse 
tied nearby. On seeing what he had done, his 
lamentation over the dying animal was pathetic. 

As a school for the study of human nature, 
that afforded in the various conditions of army 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 245 

life is unsurpassed — a life in which danger, fa- 
tigue, hunger, etc., leave no room for dissimu- 
lation, and expose the good and bad in each in- 
dividual to the knowledge of his associates. 

It sometimes fell to my lot to be on guard- 
duty with Tom Martin, an Irishman who was 
over forty-five and exempt from military ser- 
vice, but was soldiering for the love of it. Some- 
times he was very taciturn and entirely ab- 
sorbed with his short-stemmed pipe; at other 
times full of humor and entertaining. He gave 
me an account, one night while on post, of what 
he called his ' ' great flank movement ' ' — in other 
words, a visit to his home in Rockbridge with- 
out leave. After Dor an, another Irishman, had 
been disabled at Malvern Hill and discharged 
from service, he became a sort of huckster for 
the battery and would make trips to and from 
Rockbridge with a wagon-load of boxes from 
our homes and also a supply of apple-brandy. 
While camped at Bunker Hill in the fall of 
1862, shortly after Doran arrived with his load, 
Captain Poague, observing more than an or- 
dinary degree of hilarity among some of the 
men, had the wagon searched, the brandy 
brought forth, confiscated, and emptied on the 
ground. Martin, greatly outraged at the ill- 
treatment of a fellow-son of Erin, and still 
more so at the loss of so much good liquor, 
forthwith resolved to take his revenge on the 
Captain by taking "French leave." 

To escape the vigilance of provost-guards 
and deserter-hunters, he made his way to the 



246 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

foothills of the North Mountain, and in the 
course of his journey stumbled on a still-house 
in one of its secluded glens. To the proprietor, 
who was making a run of apple-brandy, and 
who proved to be l l a man after me own heart, ' ' 
Martin imparted his grievances. "I tould him," 
said he, "I hadn't a cint, but he poured me a 
tin chuck-full. With thanks in me eyes I turned 
off the whole of it, then kindled me pipe and 
stood close by the still. Ah! me lad, how the 
liquor wint through me! In thray minits I 
didn't care a domn for all the captins in old 
Stonewall's army!" 

With various adventures he made his way 
home, returned to the company of his own ac- 
cord, was wounded at Gettysburg, captured, 
and spent the remainder of war-time in prison. 

Rader, who drove the lead-horses at my gun 
almost throughout the war, is mentioned else- 
where, but his record, as well as his pranks and 
drollery, coupled with his taciturnity, were in- 
teresting. While sitting on his saddle-horse in 
one battle he was knocked full length to the 
ground by a bursting shell. When those nearby 
ran to pick him up they asked if he was much 
hurt. "No," he said, "I am just skeered to 
death. ' ' At Sharpsburg, while lying down, hold- 
ing his gray mares, a shell tore a trench close 
alongside of him and hoisted him horizontally 
into the air. On recovering his feet he stag- 
gered off, completely dazed by the concussion. 
In the first battle of Fredericksburg he was 
struck and disabled for a time. At Gettysburg, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 247 

as the same animals, frightened by a bursting 
shell, wheeled to run, he seized the bridle of the 
leader just as it was struck by a shell, which 
burst at the moment, instantly killing the two 
grays and the two horses next to them, and 
stunning Rader as before. But, with all of his 
close calls, his skin was never broken. Instead 
of currying his horses during the time allotted 
for that work he seemed to occupy himself 
teaching them " tricks,' ' but his was the best- 
groomed team in the battery. 

While on guard one cold night, as the wagon 
drivers were sleeping quietly on a bed of loose 
straw near a blazing fire, I saw Rader creep up 
stealthily and apply a torch at several places, 
wait until it was well ignited, and then run and 
yell ' ' Fire ! ' 'then repeat the sport an hour later. 
Vanpelt carried an enormous knapsack cap- 
tured from Banks and branded "10th Maine.' ' 
While halting on the march it was Rader 's 
amusement, especially when some outsider was 
passing by, to set his whip-stock as a prop un- 
der it, go through the motions of grinding, and 
rattle off the music of a hand-organ with his 
mouth until chased away by his victim. He 
mysteriously vanished from Rockbridge after 
the war, and has never since been located. 

One of the most striking characters in the 
company was "General" Jake, as we called 
him, whose passion for war kept him al- 
ways in the army, while his aversion to battle 
kept him always in the rear. After serving a 
year with us, being over military age, he got a 



248 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

discharge, but soon joined the Rockbridge cav- 
alry as a substitute, where six legs, instead of 
two, afforded three- fold opportunities. An in- 
terview between the " General" and one of our 
company, as he viewed the former and was 
struck with his appearance, was as follows : 

"Well, 'General,' you are the most perfect- 
looking specimen of a soldier I ever beheld. 
That piercing eye, the grizzly mustache, the 
firm jaw, the pose of the head, that voice — in 
fact, the whole make-up fills to the full the 
measure of a man of war." 

The "General," with a graceful bow and a 
deep roll in his voice, replied, "Sire, in enu- 
merating the items which go to constitute a 
great general I notice the omission of one 
requisite, the absence of which in my outfit lost 
to the cause a genius in council and a mighty 
leader in battle." 

"What was that, ' General'?" 

"Sire, it goes by the name of Cour-ridge." 

Estimates of things are governed by com- 
parison, and no better idea of the Southern 
army could be had than that given by a knowl- 
edge of its numbers, equipment, etc., as com- 
pared with those of its adversary throughout 
the four years of the war. This can be illus- 
trated by a sketch of the Rockbridge Artillery 
in that respect, beginning with its entrance into 
service, as a type of the whole army. 

The guns with which this company set out 
from Lexington were two smooth-bore six- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 249 

pound brass pieces used by Stonewall Jackson 
for drilling the cadets at the Virginia Military 
Institute, which were coupled together and 
drawn by one pair of horses to Staunton. I must 
pause here and relate an incident which oc- 
curred at that period, in which these guns 
played a part. Among the cadets was one — 
Hountsell — who was considered as great an 
enigma as Jackson himself. In some of the va- 
rious evolutions of the drill it was necessary 
for the cadets to trot. This gait Hountsell 
failed to adopt, and was reported to fhe super- 
intendent with the specification "for failing to 
trot." Hountsell handed in his written excuse 
as follows, "I am reported by Major Jackson 
for failing, at artillery drill, to trot. My excuse 
is, I am a natural pacer." It would be inter- 
esting to know the workings of Stonewall's 
mind when perusing this reply. 

After reaching Harper's Ferry two more six- 
pound brass pieces were received for this bat- 
tery from Eichmond. As there were no cais- 
sons for these four guns, farm-wagons were 
used, into which boxes of ammunition, together 
with chests containing rations for the men, were 
loaded. In addition to friction-primers of mod- 
ern invention at that time for firing cannon, 
the old-time "slow matches" and "port-fires" 
were in stock. So that, in preparing for battle 
with General Patterson's army at Hainesville 
on July 2, 1861, the ammunition-boxes, provi- 
sion-chests, etc., being loaded indiscriminately 
into the same wagon, were all taken out and 



250 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

placed on the ground. The "port-fire," ad- 
justed in a brass tube on the end of a wooden 
stick, was lighted, and the stick stuck in the 
ground by the gun, to give a light in case the 
friction-primer failed. This provision was due 
to the fact that Captain Pendleton was familiar 
with the "port-fire," in vogue when he attended 
West Point. On finding that the friction-primer 
was reliable, the "port-fires" were left sticking 
in the ground when the guns withdrew, and were 
captured and taken as curiosities by the 
Federals. 

After returning to Winchester, ammunition- 
chests were ordered to be made by a carpenter 
of the town. Gen. Joe Johnston, then in com- 
mand of the forces, went in person with Lieu- 
tenant Poague, and, as the latter expressed it, 
reprimanded this carpenter most unmercifully 
for his tardiness in the work. The chests were 
then quickly completed and placed on wagon- 
gears, which outfits served as caissons, and thus 
equipped the battery marched to and fought at 
first Manassas. From captures there made, 
these crude contrivances were replaced with 
regular caissons, and for two of the six-pound 
brass pieces two rifled ten-pound Parrotts were 
substituted and two heavier six-pound brass 
pieces added, making a six-gun battery. Also 
the farm-wagon harness was exchanged for 
regular artillery harness. 

The revolution in the character of Confeder- 
ate field ordnance thenceforward continued, 
and every new and improved weapon we had to 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 251 

confront in one battle we had to wield against 
our foes, its inventors, in the next. 

For a short time previous to and in the bat- 
tle of Kernstown the battery had eight guns, 
two of which, made at the Tredegar Works in 
Richmond, were of very inferior quality and 
were soon discarded. The long and trying cam- 
paign of 1862 gradually reduced the number of 
guns to four, two of which were twenty-pound 
Parrotts captured at Harper's Ferry, one a 
twelve-pound Napoleon captured at Richmond, 
and one a six-pound brass piece. The two last 
were replaced by two more twenty-pound Par- 
rotts captured from Milroy at Winchester in 
June, 1863. Each of these guns required a team 
of eight horses and as many to a caisson. They 
were recaptured at Deep Bottom below Rich- 
mond in July, 1864. 

The battery's connection with the Stonewall 
Brigade was severed October 1, at the close of 
the memorable campaign of 1862, and under the 
new regime became a part of the First Regi- 
ment Virginia Artillery, commanded by Col. 
J. Thompson Brown, afterward by Col. R. A. 
Hardaway. This regiment was made up of the 
second and third companies of Richmond How- 
itzers, the Powhatan battery commanded by 
Captain Dance, the Roanoke battery command- 
ed by Captain Griffin, and Rockbridge battery 
commanded by Captain Graham, with four guns 
to each of the five batteries. 

Our new companions proved to be a fine lot 



252 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

of men, and with them many strong and lasting 
friendships were formed. 

An idea of the spirit with which the Southern 
people entered into the war can best be con- 
veyed by some account of the wild enthusiasm 
created by the troops and the unbounded hospi- 
tality lavished upon them as they proceeded to 
their destinations along the border. 

The Rockbridge Artillery traveled by rail 
from Staunton to Strasburg. On their march of 
eighteen miles from there to Winchester they 
were preceded by the "Grayson Dare-devils ' ' 
of Virginia, one hundred strong, armed with 
Mississippi rifles and wearing red-flannel shirts. 
A mile or two in advance of this company was 
the Fourth Alabama Regiment, numbering 
eight hundred men. The regiment, on its ar- 
rival at Newtown, a small village six miles from 
Winchester, was provided by the citizens with 
a sumptuous dinner. Then the "Dare-devils" 
were likewise entertained ; but still the supplies 
and hospitality of the people were not exhaust- 
ed, as the battery, on its arrival, was served 
with a bountiful meal. 

When the battery reached Winchester their 
two small guns were stored for the night in a 
warehouse, and the men lodged and entertained 
in private houses. On the following day the 
company went by rail to Harper's Ferry, ar- 
riving there after dark. The place was then 
under command of Col. T. J. Jackson, who was 
soon after superseded by Gen. Joseph E. John- 
ston. The trains over the B. & 0. Railroad were 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 253 

still running. Evidences of the John Brown 
raid were plainly visible, and the engine-house 
in which he and his men barricaded themselves 
and were captured by the marines, commanded 
by Col. R. E. Lee, of the United States Army, 
stood as at the close of that affair. 

One or both sections of the battery were often 
engaged in picket service along the Potomac be- 
tween Shepherdstown and Williamsport, in con- 
nection with the Second Virginia Regiment, 
which was composed of men from the adjoining 
counties. Their camps and bivouacs were con- 
stantly visited by the neighboring people, espe- 
cially ladies, who came by the score in carriages 
and otherwise, provided with abundant refresh- 
ments for the inner man. As described by 
those who participated in it all, the days passed 
as a series of military picnics, in which 
there was no suspicion or suggestion of the se- 
rious times that were to follow. During the 
progress of the war, while these outward dem- 
onstrations, of necessity, diminished, the devo^ 
tion on the part of the grand women of that 
war-swept region only increased. 

I have not undertaken to describe scenes or 
relate incidents which transpired in the battery 
before I became a member of it. But there is 
one scene which was often referred to by those 
who witnessed it which is worthy of mention. 
It occurred in the fall of 1861, near Centerville, 
when a portion of the army, under Gen. Joe 
Johnston, was returning from the front, where 
an attack had been threatened, and was passing 



I 



254 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

along the highway. A full moon was shining 
in its splendor, lighting np the rows of stacked 
arms, parks of artillery, and the white tents 
which dotted the plain on either side. As col- 
umn after column, with bands playing and bayo- 
nets glistening, passed, as it were, in review, 
there came, in its turn, the First Maryland 
Eegiment headed by its drum corps of thirty 
drums rolling in martial time. Next came the 
First Virginia Regiment with its superb band 
playing the ' ' Mocking-Bird, " the shrill strains 
of the cornet, high above the volume of the 
music, pouring forth in exquisite clearness the 
notes of the bird. Scarcely had this melody 
passed out of hearing when there came march- 
ing by, in gallant style, the four batteries of the 
Washington Artillery, of New Orleans, with of- 
ficers on horseback and cannoneers mounted on 
the guns and caissons, all with sabers waving in 
cadence to the sound of their voices, singing, in 
its native French, "The Marseillaise," that 
grandest of all national airs. 

The younger generation cannot comprehend, 
and express surprise that the old soldiers never 
forget and are so wrought up by the recollec- 
tions of their war experiences ; but to have par- 
ticipated in a scene such as this will readily ex- 
plain why a soul should thrill at its recurring 
mention. 

In 1883, nearly twenty years after the war, I 
was called to Cumberland, Maryland, on busi- 
ness. By reason of a reunion of the Army of 
the Cumberland being held there at the time, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 255 

the hotels were crowded, making it necessary 
for me to find accommodations in a boarding- 
house. Sitting around the front door of the 
house, as I entered, were half a dozen Federal 
soldiers discussing war-times. The window of 
the room to which I was assigned opened im- 
mediately over where the men sat, and as I lay 
in bed I heard them recount their experiences 
in battle after battle in which I had taken part. 
It stirred me greatly. Next morning they had 
gone out when I went down to breakfast, but I 
told the lady of the house of my interest in their 
talk of the previous night. At noon the same 
party was sitting in the hall, having finished 
their dinners, as I passed through to mine. They 
greeted me cordially and said, "We heard of 
what you said about overhearing us last night ; 
take a seat and let's discuss old times.' ' My an- 
swer was, "I have met you gentlemen already 
on too many battlefields with an empty stomach, 
so wait till I get my dinner." With a hearty 
laugh this was approved of, and I joined them 
soon after. Most of them were from Ohio and 
West Virginia. They said, though, as I was 
but one against six, to say what I pleased ; and 
for an hour or more we discussed, good-humor- 
edly, many scenes of mutual interest. 

The following lines are recalled from Mer- 
rick's songs: 

1 ' Och hone, by the man in the moon ! 
You taze me all ways that a woman can plaze ; 



256 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

For you dance twice as high with that thief, 

Pat McGhee, 
As you do when you're dancing a jig, Love, 

with me ; 
Though the piper I'd bate, for fear the old 

chate 
Wouldn't play you your favorite chune. 

"Och hone, don't provoke me to do it, 

For there are girls by the score 

That would have me and more. 

Sure there's Katy Nale, that would jump if 
I'd say, 

' Katy Nale, name the day. ' 

And though you are fresh and fair as the flow- 
ers in May, 

And she's short and dark as a cowld winter's 
day, 

If you don't repent before Easter, when Lent 

Is over, I'll marry for spite." 



SAINT PATKICK 

'A fig for St. Denis of France ! 

He's a trumpery fellow to brag on. 
A fig for St. George and his lance ! 

Who splitted a heathenish dragon. 
The saints of the Welshman and Scot 

Are a pair of pitiful pipers, 
Both of whom may just travel to pot, 

Compared with the patron of swipers- 
St, Patrick of Ireland, my boy ! 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 257 

' ( Och ! he came to the Emerald Isle 

On a lump of a paving-stone mounted ; 
The steamboat he beat by a mile. 

Which mighty good sailing was counted. 
Said he, ' The salt-water, I think, 

Makes me most bloodily thirsty, 
So fetch me a flagon of drink 

To wash down the mullygrubs, burst ye ! 
A drink that is fit for a saint. ' 

"The pewter he lifted in sport, 

And, believe me, I tell you no fable, 
A gallon he drank from the quart 

And planted it down on the table. 
'A miracle!' every one cried, 

And they all took a pull at the stingo. 
They were capital hands at the trade, 

And they drank till they fell ; yet, by jingo ! 
The pot still frothed over the brim. 

" 'Next day,' quoth his host, 4s a fast 

And there is naught in my larder but mut- 
ton. 
On Friday who would serve such repast, 

Except an unchristianlike glutton V 
Says Pat, i Cease your nonsense, I beg; 

What you tell me is nothing but gammon. 
Take my compliments down to the leg 

And bid it walk hither, a salmon. ' 
The leg most politely complied. 

" Oh ! I suppose you have heard, long ago, 
How the snakes, in a manner quite antic, 
He marched from the County Mayo 
And trundled them into the Atlantic. 



258 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

So not to use water for drink, 
The people of Ireland determined. 

And for a mighty good reason, I think, 
Since St. Patrick has filled it with vermin 

And vipers and other such stuff. 

# * # # # 

"The people, with wonderment struck 

At a pastor so pious and civil, 
Cried, 'We are for you, my old buck! 

And we'll pitch our blind gods to the devil 
Who dwells in hot water below. ' 

"Och! he was an iligant blade 

As you'd meet from Fairhead to Killkrum- 
per, 
And, though under the sod he is laid, 

Here goes his health in a bumper! 
I wish he was here, that my glass 

He might, by art-magic, replenish — 
But as he is not, why, alas ! 

My ditty must come to a finish, 
Because all the liquor is out." 



THE SECOND ROCKBRIDGE ARTILLERY 

The second Rockbridge Artillery Company, 
organized July 10, 1861, like the first Rock- 
bridge Artillery, was commanded by a clergy- 
man, the Rev. John Miller, of Princeton, New 
Jersey, as captain. In honor of his wife's sis- 
ter, Miss Lily McDowell, daughter of Governor 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 259 

McDowell, of Virginia, who furnished in large 
part the outfit of this company, it was named 
"McDowell Guards." She also paid a bounty 
to a youth under military age to serve as her 
personal representative in this company. Miss 
McDowell afterward became the wife of Major 
Bernard Wolfe, whose service with the Rock- 
bridge Battery has been mentioned. 

Owing to lack of artillery equipment, the Mc- 
Dowell Guards served as infantry until Janu- 
ary, 1862, in the Fifty-second Virginia Regi- 
ment, in West Virginia. I heard Captain Miller 
relate this anecdote, which occurred in the bat- 
tle of Alleghany Mountain, December 12, 1861 : 
A boy in his company was having a regular due] 
with a Federal infantryman, whose shots sev- 
eral times passed close to the boy's head. Final- 
ly, when a bullet knocked his hat off, he defiantly 
called out to his adversary, "Hey! You didn't 
git me that time, nuther. You didn't git me 
nary a time!" 

In the early part of 1862 the McDowell Guards 
secured artillery and did excellent service in 
Mcintosh's battalion of A. P. Hill's corps until 
the close of the war. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

OAKLAND RETURN TO CAMP — OFF DUTY AGAIN 

THE RACE FROM NEW MARKET TO FORT GIL- 
MORE ATTACK ON FORT HARRISON WINTER- 
QUARTERS ON THE LINES — VISITS TO RICHMOND 

The desolation and dejection of the people of 
Lexington hastened my departure, but before 
returning to the army I spent two weeks most 
delightfully at ' ■ Oakland, ' ' the hospitable home 
of Mrs. Cocke, in Cumberland County, Virginia. 
This was the last opportunity I had of enjoy- 
ing the ■ ' old plantation life, ' ' the like of which 
can never again be experienced. It was an ideal 
life, the comforts and advantages of which only 
those who followed it could appreciate. Two of 
Mrs. Cocke's sons, who had passed many years 
at school and college in Lexington, were at 
home — one on sick-leave; the other, still a 
youth, equipping himself for the cavalry ser- 
vice, which he soon entered. William, the eld- 
est son, had been killed at Gettysburg and his 
body never recovered. 

Every day at twelve o'clock sharp delicious 
watermelons were brought from the icehouse to 
the shade of the stately oaks which adorned the 
spacious lawn; then, two hours later, after a 

260 




Robert Frazer 



FACING 260 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 261 

sumptuous dinner, a small darky brought from 
the kitchen a shovel of coals (matches were not 
a Southern product) to light our pipes. So the 
time passed. It was to this hospitable home 
that General Lee retired with his family imme- 
diately after Appomattox, and was living on 
this estate when he accepted the presidency of 
Washington College. 

My wounds being now sufficiently, or rather 
temporarily, healed, I embarked about bedtime 
at Cartersville on the canal packet boat. On 
my way to a berth in the cabin I noticed, by 
the dim light, a striking-looking man clad in 
white lying in his berth. On the deck of the 
boat were a score or more of negroes, male and 
female, singing so boisterously that the other 
passengers could not sleep. Such conduct at 
this time was felt to be significant, and the more 
so as the officers of the boat refrained from in- 
terfering. Without intimation there was a leap 
from my neighboring bunk, a hurried scramble 
up the stairway, followed by a volley of — secu- 
lar language, with a demand for instantaneous 
choice between "dead silence and dead nig- 
gers/' Thenceforward stillness prevailed, 
broken at intervals when the plaintive wind- 
ings of the packet horn, rising and falling with 
the motion of the tandem team, heralded our 
approach to a lock. Who that ever boarded that 
ancient craft, or dwelt within its sound, will 
cease to recall the associations awakened by the 
voice of the old packet horn? 

Next morning I recognized my fellow-county- 



THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

man, Bob Greenlee, of the First Virginia Cav- 
alry, as the man whose eloquence had terrorized 
the negroes. Greenlee has been aptly styled "a 
rare bird," and the accounts he gave of expe- 
riences during his sick-leave, from which he was 
now returning, were as good as "David Ha- 
rum." 

I found the battery stationed at New Market, 
on the north side of the James, near Dutch Gap. 
During my absence it had suffered the only se- 
rious loss of the kind it had experienced dur- 
ing the war — the capture of all four of its twen- 
ty-pound Parrott guns at Deep Bottom. The 
horses, as usual, had been taken to the rear for 
safety. The infantry support had been out- 
flanked, leaving our guns almost surrounded, 
so that the cannoneers escaped with difficulty — 
only one of them, Andrew Darnall, being cap- 
tured. 

The ranks of the company had been consid- 
erably depleted by chills and fever, so preva- 
lent in that swampy region, and one death had 
occurred — that of John Gibbs, a most excellent 
soldier. Less than a week's sojourn was suffi- 
cient to poison my blood and reopen an old 
wound received two years before. I was sent 
to Richmond, but twenty-four hours ' experience 
in a hospital among the sick, the wounded, and 
the dying induced me to get a discharge and 
work my way, by hook and crook, back to Oak- 
land, where I underwent a severe visitation of 
chills and fever. This, however, was soon broken 
up by quinine, and I again rejoined the battery. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 263 

The summer now drawing to a close had been 
a most trying one, and the future offered no 
sign of relief. The situation was one of simply 
waiting to be overwhelmed. That the fighting 
spirit was unimpaired was demonstrated in 
every encounter, notably the one on July 30, at 
The Crater, near Petersburg. 

During the night of September 28 there was 
heard the continued rumbling of wheels and the 
tramp of large forces of the enemy crossing on 
the pontoon bridges from the south to the north 
side of the James. At dawn next morning we 
hurriedly broke camp, as did Gary's brigade of 
cavalry camped close by, and scarcely had time 
to reach high ground and unlimber before we 
were attacked. The big gaps in our lines, en- 
tirely undefended, were soon penetrated, and 
the contest quickly became one of speed to 
reach the shorter line of fortifications some five 
miles nearer to and in sight of Richmond. The 
break through our lines was on our right, which 
placed the Federals almost in our rear, so that 
a detour of several miles on our part was neces- 
sary. On the principle that the chased dog is 
generally the fleetest, we succeeded in reaching 
the breastworks, a short distance to the left of 
Fort Gilmore, with all four guns, now ten-pound 
Parrotts ; followed by the straggling cannoneers 
much exhausted. I vividly recall George Gin- 
ger, who was No. 1 at one of the guns, as he 
came trotting in with the gun-rammer on his 
shoulder, which he had carried five miles 



264 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

through brush and brake for want of time to 
replace it on the gun-carriage. 

Much has been written about the defense of 
Fort Gilmore, and much controversy as to who 
deserved the credit. The fact that a superb 
fight was made was fully apparent when we en- 
tered the fort an hour later, while the negroes 
who made the attack were still firing from be- 
hind stumps and depressions in the cornfield in 
front, to which our artillery replied with little 
effect. The Fort was occupied by about sixty 
men who, I understood, were Mississippians. 
The ditch in front was eight or ten feet deep 
and as many in width. Into it, urged on by white 
officers, the negroes leaped, and to scale the em- 
bankment on the Fort side climbed on each oth- 
er's shoulders, and were instantly shot down as 
their heads appeared above it. The ground be- 
yond was strewn with dead and wounded. A 
full regiment had preceded us into the Fort, but 
the charge on it had been repulsed by the small 
force before its arrival. 

Next morning we counted twenty-three dead 
negroes in the ditch, the wounded and prisoners 
having previously been removed. There was 
great lamentation among them when ' i Corporal 
Dick" fell. He was a conspicuous leader, jet 
black, and bald as a badger. A mile to the right 
of Fort Gilmore and one-fourth of a mile in 
advance of our line of breastworks was Fort 
Harrison, which was feebly garrisoned by re- 
serves. This force had been overpowered and 
the Fort taken by the Federals. Two days later, 



UNDEft STONEWALL JACKSON 265 

and after it had been completely manned with 
infantry and artillery, an unsuccessful attempt 
was made to recapture it, of which we had a 
full view. The attack was made by Colquitt's 
and Anderson's brigades, while General Lee 
stood on the parapet of Fort Gilmore with field- 
glass in hand, waving his hat and cheering lus- 
tily. Of course our loss in killed, wounded, and 
captured was very heavy. This ended the fight- 
ing, except sharpshooting, on the north side of 
the James. 

During our stay in Fort Gilmore a company 
of Reserves from Richmond took the place of 
the regular infantry. They were venerable- 
looking old gentlemen — lawyers, business men, 
etc., dressed in citizens' clothes. In order to 
accustom them to the service, we supposed, they 
were frequently roused during the night to pre- 
pare for battle. After several repetitions of 
this they concluded, about two o'clock one 
night, that it was useless to retire again and go 
through the same performance, so a party of 
them kindled a fire and good-humoredly sat 
around in conversation on various subjects, 
one of which was infant baptism. My bedfel- 
low, Tom Williamson, a bachelor under twenty 
years of age, being deeply interested in this 
question, of paramount importance at this time, 
forthwith left his bunk, and from that time un- 
til daylight theology was in the air. 

Our battery changed from the Fort to a po- 
sition one-fourth of a mile to the left of it, the 



266 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

two sections being placed a hundred yards 
apart, where we remained nntil March. 

It seems remarkable even now, after a lapse 
of over forty years, that under such conditions 
and without the slightest reasonable hope of ul- 
timate success we could have passed six months, 
including a severe winter, not only moderately 
comfortable, but ofttimes with real pleasure. 
Huts and hovels of as varied architecture as the 
scarcity of material at our disposal could be 
shaped into, rose above or descended below the 
ground. The best shelters were built of pine 
logs six or eight inches in diameter, split in 
half, with the bark-side out. From a swamp a 
quarter of a mile in the rear, in which the trees 
had been previously felled for military opera- 
tions, we carried our fuel. Several hundred ne- 
groes had been impressed, in neighboring coun- 
ties within Confederate lines, to work on the ad- 
jacent fortifications, which, by their industry, 
soon became very strong. In our immediate 
front, manning the Federal works, were negro 
troops whose voices could be distinctly heard 
in darky songs and speech, and their camp-fires 
were in full view. 

It was at this time that General Early was 
distinguishing himself in the Shenandoah Val- 
ley with repeated defeats in battle, the first 
news of which reached us in a peculiar way; 
that is, when the news reached Grant's lines a 
shotted salute in celebration was fired at us, 
thus "killing two birds with one stone.' ' These 
volleys of shot and shell produced consterna- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 267 

tion among the negroes working on our fortifi- 
cations. Panic-stricken, they would break for 
the rear, casting aside picks, shovels, or any- 
thing that retarded speed ; and to get them and 
their scattered tools gathered up after such a 
stampede required several days. I was request- 
ed, by a negro who had just experienced one of 
these escapades, to write a letter for him to his 
home people. He dictated as follows: 

"My dear Wife: I take this opportunity of 
taking you down a few words and telling you 
of the terrible bumming we was under yester- 
day. The shells fell fast as hail and lightened 
as from a cloud, and we had a smart run. Give 
my love to Mammy and tell her how we is suf- 
ferin' for somethin' to eat." 

Then followed some other pieces of news; 
then love to various kinsmen, with a message 
to each of how they were "sufferm' for some- 
thin ' to eat." 

The space between the two sections of our 
battery was occupied by infantry. I particu- 
larly remember the Nineteenth Georgia Begi- 
ment, a game body of men, whose excellent 
band furnished us fine music. It was ordered, 
during the winter, to North Carolina and lost — 
killed in battle soon after — its colonel and ad- 
jutant, Neil and Turner. A mile in rear of our 
lines stood a church, a substantial frame build- 
ing, which, for want of better use, was convert- 
ed into a theater. As in the recent drafting ev- 



268 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

ery department of life had been invaded, a very 
respectable element of a histrionic turn was to 
be found in the ranks. The stage scenery, as 
one would imagine, was not gaudy and, of 
course, did not afford equipment for high art 
in the strict sense; but the doleful conditions 
of home life now in vogue in the South and the 
desperate straits for food and existence in camp 
afforded a fund of amusement to those of us 
who were inclined to pluck sport from hopeless 
conditions. 

One of the performers — named Nash — was a 
first-rate comedian. As an interlude he gave a 
representation of an attempt made by the peo- 
ple to furnish the army a Christmas dinner. To 
give an idea of what a failure such an under- 
taking would naturally be, when the people 
themselves were almost destitute, one thin tur- 
key constituted the share for a regiment close 
by us, while our battery did not get so much as 
a doughnut. Nash, in taking the thing off, ap- 
peared on the stage with a companion to pro- 
pound leading questions, and, after answering 
one query after another, to explain the meaning 
of his droll conduct, drew his hand from the 
side pocket of his blouse and, with his head 
thrown back and mouth wide open, poured a 
few dry cracker crumbs down his throat. When 
asked by the ringman what that act signified, 
he drawled out, in lugubrious tones, "Soldier 
eating Christmas dinner !■•" The righteous in- 
dignation produced among the few citizens by 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 269 

such sacrilegious use of a church soon brought 
our entertainments to a close. 

Our time was frequently enlivened by visits 
to Eichmond. By getting a twenty-four-hour 
leave we could manage to spend almost forty- 
eight hours in the city. On a pass — dated, for 
instance, January 13 — we could leave camp im- 
mediately after reveille and return in time for 
reveille on the fifteenth. 

That this would be the last winter that Rich- 
mond would be the capital of the Confederacy, 
or that the Confederacy itself would be in ex- 
istence, was a feeling experienced by all, but 
was too painful a subject for general discus- 
sion. The gaiety of the place under such con- 
ditions, viewed at this remote day, seems aston- 
ishing. There the Confederate Congress and 
the Virginia Legislature held their sessions; 
and there were the numerous employees of State 
and Nation, and refugees from various parts of 
the South, and, besides, it was the great manu- 
facturing center of that section, employing me- 
chanics and artisans of every calling. For four 
years this mixed multitude had listened to the 
thunder of cannon almost at their doors, and 
had seen old men and boys called out by day 
and by night to meet some extraordinary emer- 
gency, while it was no uncommon occurrence 
for hundreds of sick, wounded, and dead men 
to be borne through the streets to the overflow- 
ing hospitals and cemeteries. One surprising 
feature of it was to see how readily all adapted 
themselves to such a life. 



270 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

My first social visit, in company with my 
messmate, James Gilmer, of Charlottesville, 
Virginia, was to call on some lady friends, for- 
merly of Winchester. We found these ladies 
starting to an egg-nog at the house of some 
friends — the Misses Munford — with instruc- 
tions to invite their escorts. This position we 
gladly accepted, and were soon ushered into the 
presence of some of the celebrated beauties of 
Richmond, and were entertained as graciously 
as if we had been officers of high rank. The 
climax of this visit was as we were returning 
to camp the next afternoon. We overtook Taze- 
well McCorkle, of Lynchburg, the only member 
of our company who could afford the luxury of 
being married and having his wife nearby. He 
had just received a box from home, and invited 
us to go with him to his wife's boarding-house 
and partake of its contents. While enjoying and 
expressing our appreciation of the good things, 
McCorkle told us of the impression the sight of 
old-time luxuries had made on their host, Mr. 
Turner, a devout old Baptist, who, with uplift- 
ed hands, exclaimed, as it first met his gaze, 
' i Pound-cake, as I pray to be saved ! ' ' 

Since the burning of the Virginia Military 
Institute barracks, by Hunter at Lexington, the 
school had been transferred to Richmond and 
occupied the almshouse. This, on my visits to 
the city, I made my headquarters, and, prepara- 
tory to calling on my lady acquaintances, was 
kindly supplied with outfits in apparel by my 
friends among the professors. Having devel- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 271 

oped, since entering the service, from a mere 
youth in size to a man of two hundred pounds, 
to fit me out in becoming style was no simple 
matter. I recall one occasion when I started 
out on my visiting-round, wearing Frank Pres- 
ton's coat, Henry Wise's trousers, and Col. 
John Boss's waistcoat, and was assured by my 
benefactors that I looked like a brigadier-gen- 
eral. Sometimes as many as four or six of our 
company, having leave of absence at the same 
time, would rendezvous to return together in 
the small hours of the night, through Rocketts, 
where "hold-ups" were not uncommon, and re- 
count our various experiences as we proceeded 
campward. 

Indications of the hopelessness of the Con- 
federacy had, by midwinter, become very much 
in evidence, with but little effort at conceal- 
ment. Conferences on the subject among the 
members of companies and regiments were of 
almost daily occurrence, in which there was 
much discussion as to what course should be 
pursued when and after the worst came. Many 
resolutions were passed in these meetings, 
avowing the utmost loyalty to the cause, and 
the determination to fight to 1 the death. In one 
regiment not far from our battery a resolution 
was offered which did not meet the approbation 
of all concerned, and was finally passed in a 
form qualified thus, "Resolved, that in case our 
army is overwhelmed and broken up, we will 
bushwhack them; that is, some of us will." 

Notwithstanding all this apprehension, scant 



272 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 



rations and general discomfort, the pluck and 
spirit of the great majority of our men con- 
tinued unabated. To give an idea of the insuf- 
ficiency of the rations we received at this time, 
the following incident which I witnessed will 
suffice: Immediately after finishing his break- 
fast, one of our company invested five dollars 
in five loaves of bread. After devouring three 
of them, his appetite was sufficiently appeased 
to enable him to negotiate the exchange of one 
of the two remaining for enough molasses to 
sweeten the other, which he ate at once. These 
loaves, which were huckstered along the lines 
by venders from Richmond, it must be under- 
stood, were not full-size, but a compromise be- 
tween a loaf and a roll. 

Desertions were of almost nightly occurrence, 
and occasionally a half-dozen or more of the 
infantry on the picket line would go over in a 
body to the enemy and give themselves up. The 
Federals, who had material and facilities for 
pyrotechnic displays, one night exhibited in 
glaring letters of fire: 



'While the lamp holds out to burn, ] 
The vilest rebel may return." 



Toward the latter part of March our battery 
moved half a mile back of the line of breast- 
works. Two or more incidents recall, very dis- 
tinctly to my memory, the camp which we there 
occupied. The colored boy Joe, who had cooked 
for my mess when rations were more abun- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 273 

dant, was on hand again to pay his respects 
and fnrnish music for onr dances. If we had 
been tramping on a hard floor never a sound of 
his weak violin could have been heard; but on 
the soft, pine tags we could go through the 
mazes of a cotillion, or the lancers, with appar- 
ently as much life as if our couples had been 
composed of the two sexes. The greatest dif- 
ficulty incurred, in having a game of ball, was 
the procurement of a ball that would survive 
even one inning. One fair blow from the bat 
would sometimes scatter it into so many frag- 
ments that the batter would claim that there 
were not enough remains caught by any one 
fielder to put him out. 



CHAPTEE XXVni 

EVACUATION OF RICHMOND — PASSING THROUGH 
RICHMOND BY NIGHT — THE RETREAT — BATTLE 
OF SAILOR'S CREEK — BATTLE OF CUMBERLAND 
CHURCH 

While here, in the midst of our gaiety, came 
the news of the breaking of our lines near 
Petersburg, and with this a full comprehension 
of the fact that the days of the Confederacy 
were numbered. I was in Eichmond on Sunday, 
April 2, and escorted to church a young lady 
whose looks and apparel were in perfect keep- 
ing with the beautiful spring day. The green- 
checked silk dress she wore looked as fresh and 
unspotted as if it had just run the blockade. As 
the church we attended was not the one at which 
the news of the disaster had been handed to 
President Davis, our services were not inter- 
rupted, nor did I hear anything of it until I 
had parted with her at her home and gone to 
the house of a relative, Dr. Eandolph Page's, 
to dine. There I learned that a fierce battle had 
been fought at Five Forks, on the extreme right 
of our line, in which the Federals had gotten 
possession of the railroads by which our army 
was supplied with food. This, of course, ne- 

274 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 275 

cessitated the abandonment of both Richmond 
and Petersburg. 

As I passed along the streets in the afternoon 
there was nothing to indicate a panicky feeling; 
in fact, there was rather less commotion than 
usual, out much, no doubt, within doors. 

On arriving at camp I was the first to bring 
tidings of what had occurred to the company, 
and observed the varying effect produced on the 
different members, officers and men. To some 
it came as relief after long suspense, while oth- 
ers seemed hopelessly cast down and dejected. 
Orders to prepare to move soon followed, and 
our march to and through Richmond began with 
only two of our four guns, the other two being 
left behind for want of horses. 

We reached the city shortly before midnight, 
and, with Estill Waddell, of our battalion, I 
passed by the home of some friends, who, we 
found, had retired for the night. In response 
to my call, the head of the house appeared at 
an upper window. I had with me the few valu- 
ables I possessed, among them the brass button 
worn on my jacket and indented by the shell at 
second Cold Harbor. These I tossed into the 
yard, with the request that he would keep them 
for me. And, some months after the war, the 
package was sent to me in Lexington. 

We could now see and realize what the evacu- 
ation of Richmond involved. Waddel] had 
learned that his brother James, adjutant of the 
Twenty-fourth Virginia Infantry, had been 
wounded the day before at Petersburg, and was 



276 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

in the Chimborazo Hospital. At this we soon 
arrived, and entered a large apartment with 
low ceiling and brilliantly lighted. On row af- 
ter row of cots lay wounded men, utterly ob- 
livious and indifferent to the serious conditions 
that disturbed those of us who realized what 
they were. Nurses and attendants were ex- 
tremely scarce, and as deep silence prevailed as 
if each cot contained a corpse. 

After a search of a few moments Waddell 
recognized his brother in sound sleep. His ap- 
pearance for manly beauty, as we stood over 
him, surpassed that of any figure T have ever 
seen. His slight, graceful form stretched at 
full length, a snow-white forehead fringed with 
dark hair, and chin resting on his chest, he lay 
like an artist's model rather than a wounded 
warrior, and the smile with which his brown 
eyes opened at the sound of his brother's voice 
betokened the awakening from a dream of peace 
and home. On another cot, a few steps farther 
on, I recognized John McClintic, of the Rock- 
bridge Cavalry, and brother of my messmate. 
He was a boy of seventeen, with his arm shat- 
tered at the shoulder. On the cot next to him 
lay a man who was dying. McClintic and the 
others near him who could make their wants 
known were almost famished for water, a 
bucket of which, after much difficulty, we se- 
cured for them. On the following day this 
young fellow, rather than be left in the hands 
of the Federals, rode in an ox-cart and walked 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 277 

twenty miles, and finally reached his home in 
Rockbridge. 

After leaving the hospital we passed on to 
Main street and the business part of the city, 
where the scene would remind one of Bulwer's 
description of "The Last Days of Pompeii." 
The storehouses had been broken into and stood 
wide open, and fires had been kindled out of the 
goods boxes, on the floors, to afford light to 
plunder. Articles of liquid nature, especially 
intoxicants, had been emptied into the gutters, 
from which such portions as could be rescued 
were being greedily sought. 

From dark garrets and cellars the old hags 
and half-starved younger women and children 
had gathered, and were reaping a harvest such 
as they had never dreamed of. I saw a small 
boy, with an old, wrinkled, grinning woman at 
his heels, steer a barrel of flour around a corner 
and into a narrow alley with the speed and 
skill of a roustabout. The fire on the floors had 
not extended to the structures as we passed, but 
as no one seemed in the least concerned or in- 
terfered with their progress the flames soon put 
in their work and spread in all directions. 

We crossed the James on Mayo 's Bridge, fol- 
lowing the road in a southwesterly direction. 
With the first appearance of dawn the blowing 
up of the naval vessels in the river began, cul- 
minating in a gigantic explosion that made the 
earth tremble. This last was the magazine at 
Drewry's BlufT. 

Witnessing such scenes, with a realization of 



278 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

their significance, in the early part of our war 
experience would, no doubt, have been hopeless- 
ly demoralizing, but now the calmness and for- 
titude with which we took it demonstrated the 
fact that four years of such schooling had sea- 
soned us to meet unflinchingly the most des- 
perate situations. When broad daylight came 
we had the opportunity of seeing some of the 
heterogeneous elements of which Richmond 
was composed. Disaster had come too sudden- 
ly to afford time beforehand for the non-com- 
batants to migrate, even if there had been safe 
places to which to flee. 

That such looking objects should have under- 
taken to accompany an army in the field, or 
rather into the fields, indicated what desperate 
chances they were willing to take rather than 
abandon themselves to a doubtful fate by re- 
maining behind. In addition to the city con- 
tingent and those who garrisoned the forts 
where heavy ordnance only was used, the line 
of march was joined by the marine department, 
which had been doing duty on the river craft 
about Dutch Gap, Drewry's and Chaffin's 
bluffs, etc. Altogether, it was a motley com- 
bination, which afforded much amusement and 
the usual sallies of wit at each other's expense. 
The marine element was the most striking in 
appearance, and encumbered with enough bag- 
gage for a voyage to the North Pole. In three 
days' time this had all been discarded. 

After marching day and night the two wings 
of our army, having been separated since the 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 279 

previous summer, united at Amelia Court 
House, about 40 miles from Bichmond. Ours — 
that is, the one from the north side of the river 
— had not been pressed by the enemy up to this / 

point. As if in recognition of and to celebrate 
the reunion, an explosion took place far too 
violent for an ordinary salute. During a short 
halt, while the road was filled with infantry and 
artillery side by side, we felt the earth heave 
under our feet, followed instantly by a terrific 
report, and then a body of fire and flame, a 
hundred feet in diameter, shot skyward from 
beyond an intervening copse of woods. It 
proved to be the blowing up of sixty caissons, 
one hundred and eighty chests of ammunition, 
which could not be hauled farther for want of 
horses. For a moment the roar and concussion 
produced consternation. Those who were stand- 
ing crouched as if for something to cling to, 
and those sitting sprang to their feet. The 
Crater affair at Petersburg had not been for- 
gotten, and that we should be hurled into space 
by some infernal eruption flashed into our 
minds. 

Provisions had been ordered by General Lee 
over the railroad from Danville to Amelia 
Court House in readiness for the army on its 
arrival there. By some misunderstanding, or 
negligence on the part of the railroad manage- 
ment, these supplies had gone on to Bichmond, 
so that all expectation of satisfying hunger was 
now gone. Corn on the cob had already been 
issued to the men, which, it may be presumed, 



280 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

was to be eaten raw, as no time nor means for 
parching it was available. Three of these l ' nub- 
bins,' ' which had been preserved, I saw many 
years after the war. 

After trudging along, with short halts and 
making very little progress, our battery of only 
two guns went into park about midnight, but 
without unhitching the horses. After being 
roused several times from sleep to march, I 
concluded, after the third false alarm, to lie 
still. When I awoke some time later the bat- 
tery had moved and, in the dim light, I failed 
to find the course it had taken. Following on 
for some distance I came to General Lee's head- 
quarters in a farmhouse by the roadside, and 
was informed by Capt. James Garnett, one of 
the staff, that the battery would soon pass along 
the road at the point we then were. Sitting 
down with my back against a tree I, of course, 
fell asleep. From this I was shortly roused by 
rapid firing close by, and saw our wagon-train 
scattered and fleeing across the fields, with 
horses at a run and hotly pursued by Federal 
cavalry, who, with reins on their horses' necks, 
were firing at them with repeating guns. I was 
overlooked and passed by in the chase as too 
small game for them. 

The road over which I had passed was in the 
form of a semi-circle, and to escape I obliqued 
across the fields to a point I had gone over an 
hour or two before, where it crossed Sailor's 
Creek. Along the road, ascending the hill on 
the south side of the creek, I found several bri- 




John M. Brown 



FACING 280 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 281 

gades of our infantry, commanded by Ex-Gov- 
ernor Billy Smith, Gen. Custis Lee and Colonel 
Crutchfield, halted in the road and exposed to 
a sharp artillery fire, which, notwithstanding 
the fact that the place was heavily wooded, was 
very accurate and searching. Colonel Crutch- 
field was killed here, his head being taken off 
by a solid shot. This was not a comfortable 
place in which to linger while waiting for the 
battery, but comfortable places in that neigh- 
borhood seemed exceedingly scarce. 

Very soon my friend, Henry Wise, who was 
a lieutenant in Huger's battalion of artillery, 
appeared on horseback and informed me that 
almost all of the cannoneers of his battalion 
had just been captured and that he was then in 
search of men to take their places. I offered 
my services, and, following the directions he 
gave, soon found his guns, and was assigned to 
a number at one of them by Lieut. George Poin- 
dexter, another old acquaintance of Lexington. 

The infantry at this part of the line was 
what was left of Pickett's division, among 
whom I recognized and chatted with other old 
friends of the Virginia Military Institute as we 
sat resignedly waiting for the impending storm 
to burst. The Federal cavalry which had passed 
me previously in pursuit of our wagons, quar- 
termasters, etc., was part of a squadron that 
had gotten in rear of Pickett's men and given 
General Pickett and staff a hot chase for some 
distance along the line of his command. Some 
of their men and horses were killed in their 






282 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

eagerness to overhaul the General. It was per- 
fectly evident that our thin line of battle was 
soon to be assaulted, as the enemy's skirmish- 
ers were advancing on our front and right flank 
and his cannon sweeping the position from our 
left. We were not long in suspense. Almost 
simultaneously we were raked by missiles from 
three directions. To have offered resistance 
would have been sheer folly. In fifteen min- 
utes the few survivors of Pickett's immortal di- 
vision had been run over and captured, together 
with the brigades which were posted on their 
left. 

Lieutenant Wise having failed to receive any 
other cannoneers to replace those previously 
captured, the guns, without firing a shot, were 
left standing unlimbered. As we started in 
haste to retire, he and Poindexter being mount- 
ed, expressed great concern lest I, being on foot, 
should be captured. Just as they left me, how- 
ever, and while the air seemed filled with fly- 
ing lead and iron, I came upon one of the am- 
bulance corps who was trying to lead an unruly 
horse. It was a Federal cavalry horse, whose 
rider had been killed in pursuit of General 
Pickett. In the horse's efforts to break loose, 
the two saddles he was carrying had slipped 
from his back and were dangling underneath, 
which increased his fright. I suggested to the 
man that, to escape capture, he had better give 
me the horse, as he seemed to be afraid to ride 
him. To this he readily assented, and, with his 
knife, cut one saddle loose, set the other on his 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 283 

back, and handed me the halter-strap as I 
mounted. The terrified animal, without bridle 
or spur, was off like a flash, and in a few min- 
utes had carried me out of the melee. I still 
have and prize the saddle. The few who es- 
caped from this affair, known as the battle of 
Sailor's Creek, by retreating a mile north came 
in proximity to another column of our troops 
marching on a parallel road. 

As I rode up I saw General Lee dismounted 
and standing on a railroad embankment, intent- 
ly observing our fleeing men, who now began to 
throng about him. He very quietly but firmly 
let them know that it would be best not to col- 
lect in groups ; the importance of which they at 
once understood and acted on. 

Approaching night, which on previous occa- 
sions, when conditions were reversed, had inter- 
fered to our disadvantage, now shielded us 
from further pursuit. It can readily be seen 
what demoralization would follow such an ex- 
hibition of our utter helplessness. But still 
there seemed to be no alternative but to pro- 
long the agony, although perfectly assured that 
we could not escape death or capture, and that 
in a very brief time. Soon after nightfall I 
found our battery, which had traveled over a 
shorter and less exposed road, and thereby es- 
caped the adventures which had fallen to my 
lot. Our course was now toward High Bridge, 
which spans the Appomattox Eiver near Farm- 
ville. On we toiled throughout the night, mak- 
ing very slow progress, but not halting until 



284 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

near noon the following day. Under present 
conditions there were not the ordinary induce- 
ments to make a halt, as food for man and 
beast was not in evidence. I had not eaten a 
bite for forty-eight hours. Notwithstanding 
this, and as if to draw attention from our empty 
stomachs, orders came to countermarch and 
meet a threatened attack on the line in our rear. 
To this the two guns with their detachments 
promptly responded, reported to General Ma- 
hone and took part with his division in a spir- 
ited battle at Cumberland Church. 

It has been stated, by those who had oppor- 
tunities of knowing, that Mahone's division was 
never driven from its position in battle through- 
out the four years of the war. True or not, it 
held good in this case, and those of our battery 
who took part with them were enthusiastic over 
the gallant fight they made under circumstances 
that were not inspiring. There being a surplus 
of men to man our two guns, Lieut. Cole Davis 
and Billy McCauley procured muskets and took 
part with the infantry sharpshooters. McCauley 
was killed. He was a model soldier, active and 
wiry as a cat and tough as a hickory sapling. 
He had seen infantry service before joining our 
battery, and, as already mentioned, had 
" rammed home" one hundred and seventy-five 
shells in the first battle of Fredericksburg. 
Another member of our company, Launcelot 
Minor, a boy of less than eighteen years, was 
shot through the lungs by a Minie-ball. Al- 
though he was thought to be dying, our old 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 285 

ambulance driver, John L. Moore, insisted on 
putting him into the ambulance, in which he 
eventually hauled him to his home in Albemarle 
County, fifty or sixty miles distant. After some 
days he regained consciousness, recovered en- 
tirely, and is now a successful and wealthy law- 
yer in Arkansas, and rejoices in meeting his old 
comrades at reunions. His first meeting with 
Moore after the incident related above was at 
a reunion of our company in Richmond thirty 
years after the war, and their greeting of each 
other was a memorable one. 



CHAPTER XXIX 



APPOMATTOX 



Another night was now at hand, and while 
it might be supposed that nothing could be 
added to intensify the suspense there certainly 
was nothing to allay it. Although there was 
little left to destroy, we passed heaps of burn- 
ing papers, abandoned wagons, etc., along the 
roadsides. 

As each new scene or condition in our lives 
gives rise to some new and corresponding feel- 
ing or emotion, our environment at this time 
was such as to evoke sensations of dread and 
apprehension hitherto unknown. Moving paral- 
lel with us, and extending its folds like some 
huge reptile, was an army equipped with the 
best the world could afford — three-fold greater 
in numbers than our own — which in four years 
had never succeeded in defeating us in a gen- 
eral battle, but which we had repeatedly routed 
and driven to cover. Impatient of delay in ef- 
fecting our overthrow in battle, in order to 
starve us out, marauding bands had scoured the 
country, leaving ashes and desolation in their 
wake. 

That now their opportunity to pay up old 

286 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 287 

scores had come, we fully realized, and antici- 
pated with dread the day of reckoning. Gen- 
eral Grant, who was Commander-in-Chief of all 
the Federal armies, and at present personally 
in command of the army about us, was by no 
means regarded as a man of mercy. He had 
positively refused to exchange prisoners, thou- 
sands of whom on both sides were languishing 
and dying in the hands of their captors. It 
should be borne in mind, in this connection, that 
the offers to exchange had come from the Con- 
federate authorities, and for the last two years 
of the war had been invariably rejected by the 
Federal Government. In the campaign begin- 
ning in May, 1864, and ending with the evacu- 
ation of Richmond, Grant 's army had sustained 
a loss greater in number than that of the whole 
army opposed to him. 

Among the ranks were foreigners of every 
nationality. I had seen, as prisoners in our 
hands, a whole brigade of Germans who could 
not speak a word of English. During the pre- 
ceding winter we had been confronted with regi- 
ments of our former slaves. Our homes and 
people we were leaving behind to> the mercy of 
these hordes, as if forever. 

Another and by no means unimportant con- 
sideration was whether to remain and meet re- 
sults with the command, or for each man to 
shift for himself. Setting out from Richmond 
on the preceding Sunday, with no accumulation 
of vigor to draw on, we had passed a week with 
food and sleep scarcely sufficient for one day; 



288 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

and to cope with such exigencies as now con- 
fronted us, what a part the stomach does play ! 
All in all, it was a situation of a lifetime that 
will ever abide in the gloomy recesses of mem- 
ory. About eight o'clock on Sunday morning, 
April 9, as our two guns were entering the lit- 
tle village of Appomattox, several cannon-shots 
sounded in quick succession immediately in our 
front. Without word of command we came to 
our last halt. 

Turning out of the road we went into park, 
unhitched our hungry horses, and awaited de- 
velopments. During the two preceding days 
several written communications had passed be- 
tween Generals Lee and Grant, of which we 
knew nothing. Our suspense, however, was soon 
interrupted by the appearance of a Confeder- 
ate officer, accompanied by a Federal officer 
with long, flowing yellow hair, and waving a 
white handkerchief as they galloped by. This 
was General Custer, of cavalry fame, and the 
conspicuous hero and victim of the Indian mas- 
sacre, which bore his name, in Idaho ten years 
later. 

Several sharp encounters had occurred dur- 
ing the morning, in which our men displayed 
the same unflinching valor, capturing in a 
charge a Federal major-general (Gregg) and 
two pieces of artillery; but now all firing had 
ceased, and the stillness that followed was op- 
pressive. As soon as it became known that Gen- 
eral Lee had surrendered, although for days it 
bad been perfectly understood that such a re- 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 289 

suit was inevitable, there was for a time no lit- 
tle excitement and commotion among the men. 
That we should be subjected to abhorrent hu- 
miliation was conceived as a matter of course, 
and, to avoid it, all sorts of efforts and plans 
to escape were discussed. The one controlling 
influence, however, to allay such a feeling was 
the unbounded and unimpaired confidence in 
General Lee. The conduct and bearing of the 
men were characterized by the same sterling 
qualities they had always displayed. The only 
exhibition of petulance that I witnessed was by 
a staff officer who bore no scars or other evi- 
dence of hardships undergone, but who ac- 
quired great reputation after the war. He 
" could not submit to such degradation, ' ' etc., 
threw away his spurs and chafed quite dramati- 
cally. When a bystander suggested that we cut 
our way out, he objected that we had no arms. 
"We can follow those that have," was the re- 
ply, ' ' and use the guns of those that fall ! ' ' He 
did not accede to the proposition; but later I 
heard him insist that one of our drivers should 
let him have his spurs, as he, the driver, would 
have no further use for them; but he did not 
get the spurs. 

By noon, or soon thereafter, the terms of the 
surrender were made known — terms so gener- 
ous, considerate, and unlooked-for as scarcely 
believed to be possible. None of that exposure 
to the gaze and exultation of a victorious foe, 
such as we had seen pictured in our school- 
books, or as practised by conquering nations in 



290 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

all times. We had felt it as not improbable 
that, after an ordeal of mortifying exposure 
for the gratification of the military, we would 
be paraded through Northern cities for the ben- 
efit of jeering crowds. So, when we learned that 
we should be paroled, and go to our homes un- 
molested, the relief was unbounded. 

Early in the afternoon General Lee, mounted 
on "Traveler" and clad in a spotless new uni- 
form, passed along on his return from an in- 
terview with General Grant. I stood close by 
the roadside, along which many of his old sol- 
diers had gathered, in anticipation of his com- 
ing, and, in a life of more than three-score 
years, with perhaps more than ordinary oppor- 
tunities of seeing inspiring sights, both of 
God's and man's creation, the impression and 
effect of General Lee's face and appearance as 
he rode by, hat in hand, stands pre-eminent. A 
few of the men started to cheer, but almost in- 
stantly ceased, and stood in silence with the 
others — all with heads bared. 

The favorable and entirely unexpected terms 
of surrender wonderfully restored our souls; 
and at once plans, first for returning to our 
homes, and then for starting life anew, afford- 
ed ample interest and entertainment. One of 
the privileges granted in the terms of surren- 
der was the retention, by officers and cavalry- 
men, of their own horses. My recent acquisi- 
tion at Sailor's Creek had put me in possession 
of a horse, but to retain him was the difficulty, 
as I was neither officer nor cavalryman. Buoyed 



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UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 291 

up with the excitement of bursting shells and 
the noise of battle, he had carried me out game- 
ly, but, this over, there was but little life in him. 
I transferred the saddle and bridle to a horse 
abandoned in the road with some artillery, and 
left my old benefactor standing, with limbs wide 
apart and head down, for his original owners. 

To accomplish my purpose of going out with 
a horse, two obstacles had first to be overcome. 
Being only a cannoneer, I was not supposed to 
own a horse, so I must be something else. I laid 
the case before General Pendleton, our old 
neighbor in Lexington, and my former school- 
teacher. It was rather late to give me a com- 
mission, but he at once appointed me a courier 
on his staff, and as such I was paroled, and still 
have the valued little paper, a facsimile of 
which is shown opposite. 

The next difficulty to be met, the horse I had 
exchanged for was branded C.S., and, even if 
allowed to pass then, I feared would be confis- 
cated later. There was a handsome sorrel, also 
branded C.S., among our battery horses, to 
which Lieut. Ned Dandridge, of General Pen- 
dleton's staff, had taken a fancy. For the sor- 
rel he substituted a big, bony young bay of his 
own. I replaced the bay with my C.S. horse, 
and was now equipped for peace. The branded 
sorrel was soon taken by the Federals. 

After resting and fattening my bay, I sold 
him for a good price, and was thus enabled to 
return to Washington College and serve again 
under General Lee. 



APPENDIX 

Under an act of the General Assembly of 
Virginia, 1898, the Camps of Confederate Vet- 
erans, organized in the several cities and towns 
of the Commonwealth, were authorized to pre- 
pare lists of the citizens of their respective 
counties who served as soldiers during the war 
between the States, and of those belonging to 
such companies, and these lists were to be duly 
recorded by the Clerks of the County Courts of 
the counties and kept among the Court Records. 
The following list is taken from this record, and 
is as nearly accurate as is possible at this date : 

KOCKBKIDGE AETILLEEY 

ROLL OF COMPANY 

The enrollment of the Rockbridge Artillery 
began April 19, 1861, and by the 21st the com- 
pany numbered about seventy men, and was or- 
ganized by the election of the following officers : 
Captain, John McCausland; and J. Bowyer 
Brockenbrough, Win. McLaughlin and Wm. T. 
Poague, lieutenants. Captain McCausland soon 
thereafter was made lieutenant-colonel and or- 
dered to the western part of the State. On the 

293 



294 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

29th of April the company unanimously elected 
Rev. Wm. N. Pendleton captain. 

The company left Lexington for the seat of 
war May 10, 1861, with two small, brass six- 
pounders obtained at the Virginia Military In- 
stitute. It was regularly mustered into the Con- 
federate service at Staunton, Virginia, on May 
11, and at once ordered to Harper's Ferry, 
where it received two more guns. After the First 
Brigade was organized, under Gen. Thomas 
J. Jackson, the Rockbridge Artillery was as- 
signed to it, and continued a component part of 
the Stonewall Brigade, in touch with and occu- 
pying the same positions with it in all its bat- 
tles and skirmishes up to Sharpsburg. 

Upon the reorganization of the artillery, in 
October, 1862, the battery was assigned to the 
First Regiment Virginia Artillery, under the 
command of Col. J. Thompson Brown, and con- 
tinued with it till the close of the war. The first 
fight it was engaged in, and which made a part 
of its history, occurred July 2 near Hainesville, 
when General Patterson crossed the Potomac 
and advanced on Winchester. But one piece 
was engaged, and this fired the first shot from 
a Confederate gun in the Shenandoah Valley. 

The battery had five captains from first to 
last : First, John McCausland, afterward brig- 
adier-general of cavalry; second, Rev. Wm. N. 
Pendleton, D.D., in command from May 1, 1861, 
until after the first battle of Manassas, after- 
ward brigadier-general and chief of artillery in 
the Army of Northern Virginia; third, Wm, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 295 

McLaughlin, afterward lieutenant-colonel of ar- 
tillery, in command until April 2, 1862 ; fourth, 
Win. T. Poagne, afterward lieutenant-colonel of 
artillery, Army of Northern Virginia, in com- 
mand until after the first battle of Fredericks- 
burg; fifth, Archibald Graham, from that time 
until the surrender at Appomattox, at which 
place ninety-three men and officers laid down 
their arms. 

This company had the reputation of being 
one of the finest companies in the service. So 
high was the intellectual quality of the men that 
forty-five were commissioned as officers and as- 
signed to other companies in the service. Many 
of them reached high distinction. At no time 
during the war did this company want for re- 
cruits, but it was so popular that it always had 
a list from which it could fill its ranks, which 
were sometimes depleted by its heavy casualties 
and numerous promotions from its roster. 

The following officers and men were mustered 
into the service of the Confederate States at 
Staunton, Virginia, on the 11th day of Mav, 
1861: 

*Captain W. N. Pendleton; brigadier-general, 
chief of artillery A.N.V. ; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

*First Lieutenant J. B. Brockenbrough ; wound- 
ed at first Manassas; captain Baltimore Ar- 
tillery, major of artillery A.N.V. 

The names with a star prefixed are the men from Rock- 
bridge County. 



296 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

* Second Lieutenant Wm. McLaughlin; captain; 

lieutenant-colonel of artillery. 

* Second Lieutenant W. T. Poague; captain; 

lieutenant-colonel of artillery A.N.V. ; wound- 
ed at second Cold Harbor; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

*First Sergeant J. McD. Alexander; lieutenant 
Rockbridge Artillery; entered cavalry. 

*Second Sergeant J. Cole Davis; lieutenant 
Rockbridge Artillery; wounded at Port Re- 
public; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Third Sergeant Archibald Graham; lieutenant 

and captain Rockbridge Artillery; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

PEIVATES 

*Agner, Jos. S.; killed at Fredericksburg De- 
cember 13, 1862. 

*Ayres, Jas. ; discharged for physical disability 
August, 1861. 

*Ayres, N. B. ; deserted, went into Federal 
army. 

* Anderson, S. D.; killed at Kernstown March 

23, 1862. 

*Beard, John ; killed at Fredericksburg Decem- 
ber 13, 1862. 

*Beard, W. B.; died from effects of measles 
summer of 1861. 

*Bain, Samuel. 

*Brockenbrough, W. N.; corporal; transferred 
to Baltimore Light Artillery. 

*Brown, W. M.; corporal, sergeant, lieutenant; 
wounded and captured at Gettysburg. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 297 

*Bumpus, W. N.; corporal; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

* Conner, Blain ; discharged for physical disabil- 

ity in spring, 1861. 

* Conner, George; arm broken by stallion; ab- 

sent after winter of 1861-62. 
*Conner, Jas. A.; wounded at Sharpsburg and 

Gettysburg; took the oath in prison and 

joined Federal army and fought Indians in 

Northwest. 
*Conner, John C; paroled at Appomattox. 
Coffee, A. W. 

* Craig, John B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Crosen, W. 

*Curran, Daniel; died from disease in summer 

of 1862. 
*Davis, Mark; deserted. 
*Davis, E. G. ; died from disease in 1861. 
*Doran, John; wounded at Malvern Hill in 

1862; disabled. 
*Dudley, B. M. 

*Ford, Henry; discharged after one year. 
*Ford, Jas. A.; wounded. 
*Gibbs, J. T., Jr.; wounded at Port Republic 

June 22, 1862 ; died from disease. 
*Gold, J. M.; captured at Gettysburg and died 

in prison. 

* Gordon, W. C; wounded at Fredericksburg; 

disabled. 
*Harris, Alex.; captured at Gettysburg and 

died in prison. 
*Harris, Bowlin; captured at Gettysburg; kept 

in prison. 



!■ i> 



298 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Hetterick, Ferdinand; discharged after one 

year. 
*Henry, N. S. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled at 

Appomattox. 

* Hughes, Wm. ; discharged. 

* Ho s tetter, G. W. ; transferred to infantry. 

* Johnson, Lawson; died in summer of 1861. 

* Johnson, W. F.; corporal, quartermaster ser- 

geant; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Jordan, J. W. ; wounded at first Manassas; 

corporal, sergeant, lieutenant ; paroled at Ap- 
pomattox. 
*Leopard, Jas.; transferred to Carpenter's bat- 
tery. 

* Lewis, Henry P.; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Lewis, R. P. ; transferred to cavalry in spring 

of 1862. 
*Leyburn, John; lieutenant Rockbridge Artil- 
lery ; surgeon on privateer. 

* Martin, Thomas; wounded and captured at 

Gettysburg. 

*McCampbell, D. A.; died from disease in De- 
cember, 1864. 

*McCampbell, W. H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCluer, John G. ; corporal Rockbridge Artil- 
lery; transferred to cavalry. 

*McCorkle, J. Baxter; corporal, sergeant, lieu- 
tenant Rockbridge Artillery; killed at first 
Fredericksburg. 

* Montgomery, W. G. ; killed at first Fredericks- 

burg. 
*Moore, D. E.; corporal, sergeant; wounded at 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 299 

Winchester and at Malvern Hill; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

*Moore, John D.; quartermaster sergeant; cap- 
tured after Gettysburg, prisoner until close 
of war. 

*Moore, Samuel E. ; mortally wounded at 
Sharpsburg. 

* Morgan, G. W.; sick and absent most of the 

time. 

*0'Rourke, Frank; wounded at Malvern Hill; 
deserted. 

*Paxton, J. Lewis ; sergeant ; lost leg at Kerns- 
town. 

*Phillips, James. 

*Preston, Frank; lost an arm at Winchester 
May 25, 1862; captain Virginia Military In- 
stitute Company. 

*Raynes, A. G. ; detailed as miller. 

*Rader, D. P. ; wounded at Fredericksburg De- 
cember 13, 1862. 

* Rhodes, J. N. ; discharged, over age. 

* Smith, Joseph S. ; transferred to cavalry; 

killed in battle. 
*Smith, S. C; corporal, sergeant; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

* Smith, Adam; discharged after one year. 
*Strickler, James. 

*Strickler, W. L. ; corporal, sergeant; paroled 

at Appomattox. 
*Silvey, James; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Tharp, Benjamin F.; transferred to cavalry in 

spring of 1862. 
*Thompson, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 



300 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

^Thompson, S. G. 

*Tompkins, J. F.; corporal; detailed in Ord- 
nance Department. 

*Trevy, Jacob; wounded at Gettysburg; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

* Wallace, John; killed at Kernstown March 23, 

1862. 
*Wilson, S. A. ; discharged for physical disabil- 
ity August, 1861; joined cavalry. 

The following joined the battery after May 
11, 1861 ; dates of enlistment being given as far 
as known : 

* Adams, Thomas T.; enlisted 1863; discharged; 

later killed in battle. 

*Adkins, Blackburn; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Agner, Oscar W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Agner, John ; enlisted July 21, 1861. 

*Agner, Jonathan; enlisted July 29, 1861; 
killed at Kernstown May 25, 1862. 

*Agner, Samuel S.; enlisted fall of 1862. 

Alexander, Edgar S. ; enlisted September 2, 
1861; lost an arm at Fredericksburg, 1862. 

Alexander, Eugene; enlisted August 23, 1861; 
wounded at second Manassas ; transferred to 
cavalry. 

Armisted, Charles J.; paroled at Appomattox. 

Arnold, A. E. ; enlisted September 1, 1861 ; cor- 
poral, assistant surgeon. 

Bacon, Edloe P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Bacon, Edloe P., Jr. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Baldwin, William Ludlow; paroled at Appo- 
mattox, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 301 

Barger, William G. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Barton, David R. ; enlisted June 27, 1861 ; lieu- 
tenant in Cutshaw's battery; killed. 

Barton, Robert T. ; enlisted March 7, 1862. 

Bedinger, G. R. ; July 9, 1861; transferred to 
infantry; killed at Gettysburg; captain. 

Bealle, Jerry T. ; enlisted November 21, 1861. 

Bell, Robert S.; enlisted November 19, 1861; 
killed at Rappahannock Station. 

*Black, Benjamin F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Blain, Daniel; enlisted May 27, 1861; detailed 
in Ordnance Department; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

Blackford, L. M.; enlisted September 2, 1861; 
adjutant Twenty-sixth Virginia Infantry. 

Boiling, W. H.; enlisted March 10, 1862; cor- 
poral. 

Boteler, A. R., Jr.; enlisted March 1, 1862; 
wounded May 25, 1862. 

Boteler, Charles P.; enlisted October 23, 1861; 
transferred to cavalry. 

Boteler, Henry; enlisted October 10, 1861; cor- 
poral; paroled at Appomattox. 

Boyd, E. Holmes ; enlisted June 28, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to Ordnance Department. 

Brooke, Pendleton; enlisted October 28, 1861; 
discharged for physical disability. 

Brown, H. C. ; enlisted 1862 ; detailed in Signal 
Corps. 

*Brown, John L. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; killed 
at Malvern Hill. 

Brown, John M.; enlisted March 11, 1862; 



302 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

wounded at Malvern Hill; paroled at Appo- 
mattox. 

Bryan, Edward; enlisted November 22, 1861. 

Burwell, Lewis P. ; enlisted September 21, 1861 ; 
transferred. 

Byers, G. Newton; enlisted August 23, 1861; 
corporal; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Byrd, W. H.; enlisted August 15, 1861; killed 
at Kernstown March 23, 1862. 

*Byrd, William. 

*Carson, William; enlisted July 23, 1861; cor- 
poral ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Caruthers, Thornton; enlisted December 21, 
1862. 

*Chapin, W. T. 

Clark, James G. ; enlisted June 15, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred. 

Clark, J. Gregory ; enlisted July 16, 1862 ; trans- 
ferred. 

Cook, Richard D. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Compton, Robert K.; enlisted July 25, 1861; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*Conner, Alexander; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded May 25, 1862, at Winchester; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Conner, Daniel ; enlisted July 27, 1862. 

* Conner, Fitz G. 

* Conner, Henry C; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Cox, W. H.; enlisted July 23, 1861. 
*Craig, Joseph E.; enlisted March 2, 1863. 
*Crocken, Francis J.; enlisted March 21, 1862. 
Dandridge, Stephen A.; enlisted 1862; paroled 

at Appomattox, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 303 

Darnall, Andrew M. ; captured at Deep Bottom. 

Darnall, Henry T.; enlisted July 23, 1861; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Davis, Charles W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Davis, James M. M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Davis, John E. ; died from disease June, 1864. 

*Dixon, W. H. H.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded December 13, 1862; paroled at Ap- 
pomattox. 

*Dold, C. M.; enlisted March 3, 1862; wounded 
at Newtown; paroled at Appomattox. 

Effinger, W. H. ; wounded at Sharpsburg ; trans- 
ferred to engineers. 

Emmett, Michael J.; enlisted June 15, 1861; 
wounded and captured at Gettysburg. 

Eppes, W. H.; wounded September, 1862. 

*Estill, W. C. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Fairfax, Eandolph; enlisted August 10, 1861; 
wounded at Malvern Hill ; killed at first Fred- 
ericksburg. 

Faulkner, E. Boyd; enlisted July 23, 1862; de- 
tailed at headquarters. 

Fishburne, C. D.; enlisted June 21, 1861; ser- 
geant; lieutenant in Ordnance Department. 

Foutz, Henry; enlisted September 6, 1862; 
killed at first Fredericksburg. 

Frazer, Kobert; enlisted November 28, 1862; 
wounded at first Fredericksburg. 

Friend, Ben C. M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Fuller, John ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wounded 
at Malvern Hill; killed at first Fredericks- 
burg. 



304 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Garnett, James M. ; enlisted July 17, 1861 ; lieu- 
tenant on staff. 

Gerardi, Edward. 

Gibson, Henry B. ; enlisted May 13, 1862. 

Gibson, John T. ; enlisted August 14, 1861. 

Gibson, Robert A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Gilliam, William T. 

Gilmer, James B. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Gilmore, J. Harvey; enlisted March 7, 1862; 
chaplain. 

* Ginger, George A.; enlisted March 6, 1862; 

wounded at Newtown; paroled at Appomat- 
tox. 

* Ginger, W. L. ; enlisted March 6, 1862 ; wound- 

ed and captured at Gettysburg; prisoner till 

close of war. 
*Gold, Alfred; enlisted July 23, 1861; wounded 

at second Fredericksburg. 
Gooch, James T. ; transferred from engineers 

in 1863; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Goul, John M.; enlisted June 14, 1861; chap- 
lain A.N.V. ; died of fever in service. 
*Gray, 0. P.; enlisted March 21, 1862; killed at 

Kernstown March 23, 1862. 
Gregory, John M. ; enlisted September 7, 1861 ; 

wounded May 25, 1862; captain in Ordnance 

Department. 

* Green, Thomas; enlisted 1862; transferred. 
*Green, Zach. ; enlisted 1862; transferred. 
Gross, Charles; enlisted July 27, 1862. 
*Hall, John F.; enlisted July 23, 1861; died 

near Richmond, 1862. 
Heiskell, J. Campbell; enlisted February 9, 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 305 

1862 ; wounded in 1864 ; paroled at Appomat- 
tox. 

Heiskell, J. P.; enlisted 1862; discharged for 
physical disability. 

*Herndon, Francis T. ; enlisted March 31, 1862 ; 
killed at Malvern Hill. 

Hitner, John K.; enlisted March 17, 1862; 
wounded. 

*Hohnes, John A. ; enlisted March 11, 1862. 

*Houston, James Rutherford; enlisted July 23, 
1861. 

Houston, William W. ; enlisted August 10, 1861 ; 
chaplain A.N.V. 

Hughes, William; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Humm erickhouse, John R.; enlisted March 28, 
1862. 

Hyde, Edward H.; enlisted March 28, 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

Johnson, Thomas E. 

Jones, Beverly R. ; enlisted July 3, 1861. 

Kean, Otho G. ; enlisted after capture at Vicks- 
burg; paroled at Appomattox. 

Kean, William C; enlisted fall of 1861; trans- 
ferred. 

*Knick, William; enlisted August 11, 1862; 
mortally wounded at second Fredericksburg. 

Lacy, Richard B. 

Lacy, William S. ; enlisted March 17, 1862 ; de- 
tailed in Signal Service; chaplain. 

Lawson, Joseph; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Lawson, William ; enlisted July 20, 1863. 

Leathers, John P. ; paroled at Appomattox. 



306 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Lecky, John H. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to cavalry. 

Lee, Eobert E., Jr.; enlisted March 26, 1862; 
lieutenant on staff, and captain. 

*Leech, James M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Letcher, Samuel H. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Lewis, James P.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded. 

Lewis, Nicholas H. ; enlisted June 17, 1861. 

*Link, David; transferred from Rice's battery. 

Luke, "Williamson; enlisted October 7, 1861; 
soon transferred to cavalry. 

*McAlpin, Joseph; enlisted March 3, 1862; 
mortally wounded at first Fredericksburg. 

*McCauley, John E.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
corporal, sergeant ; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCauley, William H. ; transferred from in- 
fantry; corporal; killed April 7, 1865. 

*McClintic, W. S.; enlisted October 4, 1861; 
wounded; paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCorkle, Tazwell E.; enlisted in Hamden 
Sidney Company in 1861; captured at Rich 
Mountain; joined battery in 1864. 

*McCorkle, Thomas E.; enlisted March 9, 1862; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCorkle, William A.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*McCrum, R. Barton ; paroled at Appomattox. 

McGuire, Hugh H., Jr.; enlisted March 10; 
transferred to cavalry ; captain ; killed. 

McKim, Robert B.; enlisted July 6, 1861; killed 
at Winchester May 25, 1862. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 307 

Macon, Lyttleton S. ; enlisted June 27, 1861; 

corporal, sergeant; discharged. 
Magruder, Davenport D. ; enlisted March 1, 

1862 ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Magruder, Horatio E. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Marshall, John J. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Marshall, Oscar M. ; enlisted March 6, 1862. 
Massie, John Livingstone; enlisted May 15, 

1861; captain of artillery; killed. 
*Mateer, Samuel L. ; enlisted January 11, 1863 

paroled at Appomattox. 
Maury, Magruder; enlisted in fall of 1861 

transferred to cavalry. 
Maury, Thompson B.; enlisted in fall of 1861 

detailed in Signal Service. 
Meade, Francis A.; enlisted November, 1862 

paroled at Appomattox. 
Merrick, Alfred D. ; enlisted December 30, 1861 
Minor, Charles; enlisted November 16, 1861 

transferred to engineers. 
Minor, Carter N. B. ; enlisted July 27, 1861. 
Minor, Launcelot; wounded at Cumberland 

Church. 
*Moore, Edward A.; enlisted March 3, 1862; 

wounded at Sharpsburg and twice at second 

Cold Harbor; paroled at Appomattox. 
*Moore, John H. ; transferred from Rockbridge 

Rifles in spring of 1861 ; wounded ; paroled at 

Appomattox. 
*Moore, John L.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 

wounded. 
*Mooterspaugh, William; enlisted 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 



308 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

Montgomery, Ben T. ; transferred from another 
battery; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Myers, John M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Nelson, Francis K.; enlisted May 17, 1861; 

transferred to Albemarle Light Horse. 

Nelson, Kinloch; transferred from Albemarle 
Light Horse; disabled by caisson turning 
over on him. 

Nelson, Philip; enlisted July 27, 1861; dis- 
charged by furnishing substitute. 

•Nicely, George H.; enlisted March 7, 1862; 
died from disease, 1864. 

*Nicely, James W. ; enlisted March 7, 1862 ; de- 
serted. 

* Nicely, John F. ; enlisted July 23, 1861 ; wound- 

ed at Port Eepublic. 

Otey, William M.; enlisted 1862; transferred 
soon thereafter. 

Packard, Joseph; enlisted July 7, 1861; cor- 
poral; lieutenant Ordnance Department. 

Packard, Walter J.; enlisted October 23, 1861; 
died summer of 1862. 

Page, Richard C. M.; enlisted July 14, 1861; 
transferred; captain; major artillery. 

Page, R. Powell ; enlisted May 1, 1864 ; detailed 
courier to Colonel Carter. 

Paine, Henry M. 

*Paine, Henry R.; enlisted July 23, 1861; cor- 
poral, sergeant ; killed at second Manassas. 

Paine, James A. 

*Paxton, Samuel A. ; enlisted March 7, 1862. 

Pendleton, Dudley D.; enlisted June 19, 1861; 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 309 

captain and assistant adjutant-general, artil- 
lery A.N.V. 

*Pleasants, Robert A. ; enlisted March 3, 1863. 

Pollard, James G.; enlisted July 27, 1864; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

Porter, Mouina G.; enlisted September 24, 
1861; detailed courier. 

*Phillips, Charles ; detailed in Signal Service. 

*Pugh, George W. ; enlisted March 6, 1862 ; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Pugh, John A. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Rawlings, James M. 

*Rentzell, George W.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded at Kernstown and disabled. 

*Robertson, John W. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Robinson, Arthur; enlisted March 28, 1862; 
mortally wounded at first Fredericksburg. 

*Root, Erastus C; paroled at Appomattox. 

Ruffin, Jefferson; transferred from another 
battery; paroled at Appomattox. 

Rutledge, Charles A.; enlisted November 3, 
1861 ; transferred. 

*Sandford, James; paroled at Appomattox. 

*Saville, John; enlisted July 23, 1861; trans- 
ferred to cavalry; died in service. 

*Shaner, Joseph F.; enlisted July 23, 1861; 
wounded at first Fredericksburg; paroled at 
Appomattox. 

*Shaw, Campbell A.; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Shoulder, Jacob M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Singleton, William F.; enlisted June 3, 1861; 
wounded and captured at Port Republic. 



310 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

*Schammerhorn, John G. 

Smith, J. Howard; enlisted September 2, 1861; 
lieutenant in Ordnance Department. 

Smith, James P. ; enlisted July 9, 1861 ; lieuten- 
ant and captain on staff of General Jackson. 

Smith, James Morrison. 

Smith, Summerfield; enlisted September 2, 
1861 ; died from disease. 

Stuart, G. W. C. ; enlisted May 13, 1862 ; wound- 
ed May 25, 1862 ; killed at second Fredericks- 
burg. 

*Strickler, Joseph; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Stuart, W. C; wounded at second Cold Har- 

bor; paroled at Appomattox. 

Swan, Minor W. ; enlisted August 15, 1863 ; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

Swan, Robert W. 

*Swisher, Benjamin R. ; enlisted March 3, 1862; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*Swisher, George W.; enlisted March 3, 1862; 
wounded May 25, 1862 ; paroled at Appomat- 
tox. 

* Swisher, Samuel S. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Tate, James F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Taylor, Charles F. 

Taylor, Stevens M. ; paroled at Appomattox. 
Thompson, Ambrose; died July, 1864. 

* Thorn pson, Lucas P. ; enlisted August 15, 1861 ; 

paroled at Appomattox. 

Tidball, Thomas H.; enlisted March 3, 1862; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Timberlake, Francis H. 

*Tomlinson, James W.; enlisted July 23, 1861. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 311 

Trice, Leroy F. ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Trueheart, Charles W.; enlisted October 24, 
1861; corporal, assistant surgeon. 

Tyler, D. Gardner ; paroled at Appomattox. 

Tyler, John Alexander; enlisted April, 1865; 
paroled at Appomattox. 

*Van Pelt, Robert; enlisted July 23, 1861. 

Veers, Charles 0. ; enlisted September 10, 1861 ; 
transferred to cavalry soon thereafter. 

*Vest, Andrew J.; enlisted July 23, 1861; dis- 
charged. 

*Wade, Thomas M. ; enlisted March 7, 1862 ; pa- 
roled at Appomattox. 

*Walker, George A.; enlisted July 23, 1861 
transferred to Carpenter's battery. 

*Walker, James S.; enlisted July 23, 1861 
transferred to Carpenter's battery. 

* Walker, John W.; enlisted July 23, 1861 

transferred to Carpenter's battery. 
Whitt, Algernon S.; enlisted August 8, 1861 
corporal; paroled at Appomattox. 

* White, William H.; paroled at Appomattox. 
W x illiams, John J. ; enlisted July 15, 1861 ; trans- 
ferred to Chew's battery. 

* Williams on, Thomas; wounded at Gettysburg; 

escaped at Appomattox with the cavalry. 
^Williamson, William G. ; enlisted July 5, 1861 ; 

captain of engineers. 
*Wilson, Calvin. 
*Wilson, John ; enlisted July 22, 1861 ; prisoner 

after Gettysburg; took the oath. 

* Wiseman, William; enlisted March 10, 1862. 

* Wilson, Samuel A.; enlisted March 3, 1862; 



312 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

wounded at Gettysburg; captured; died in 
prison. 

* Wilson, William M.; enlisted August 12, 1861; 

corporal. 
Winston, Robert B. ; enlisted August 25, 1861. 
* Withrow, John ; paroled at Appomattox. 

* Woody, Henry; transferred from infantry, 

1864; deserted. 

* Wright, John W. ; enlisted 1864 ; wounded and 

disabled at Spottsylvania Court House. 
Young, Charles E. ; enlisted March 17, 1862. 

The Rockbridge Artillery took part in the fol- 
lowing engagements : 

Hainesville, July 2, 1861. 
First Manassas, July 21, 1861. 
Kernstown, March 23, 1862. 
Winchester, May 25, 1862. 
Charles town, May, 1862. 
Port Republic, June 8 and 9, 1862. 
White Oak Swamp, June 30, and Malvern 
Hill, July 1, 1862. 

Cedar Run, August 9, 1862. 

Second Manassas, August 28, 29 and 30, 1862. 

Harper's Ferry, September 15, 1862. 

Sharpsburg, September 17, 1862. 

First Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862. 

Second Fredericksburg, May 2 and 3, 1863. 

Winchester, June 14, 1863. 

Gettysburg, July 2 and 3, 1863. 

Rappahannock Bridge, November 9, 1863. 

Mine Run, November 27, 1863. 

Spottsylvania Court House, May 12, 1864. 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 318 

Cold Harbor, June 3, 1864. 

Deep Bottom, July 27, 1864. 

New Market Heights, September, 1864. 

Fort Gilmore, 1864. 

Cumberland Church, April 7, 1865. 

The battery saw much service in fighting 
gunboats on James River, and took part in 
many skirmishes not mentioned. 

The number of men, enrolled as above, is 
three hundred and five (305), of whom one hun- 
dred and seventy- three (173) were from the 
county of Rockbridge. Of the remainder, a 
large part were students, college graduates, 
University of Virginia men, and some divinity 
students. These, with the sturdy men from 
among the farmers and business men of Rock- 
bridge, made up a company admirably fitted 
for the artillery service. 

The efficiency of the battery was due in no 
small part to its capacity for rapid marching 
and maneuvering, and this to the care and 
management of the horses mainly by men from 
this county. In the spring of 1862 a large num- 
ber of men was recruited for the battery, whose 
names are not on the above roll, and some of 
whom were engaged in the battle of Kernstown. 
In April, 1862, while encamped at Swift Run 
Gap, authority was given by General Jackson 
to reorganize the battery, making three compa- 
nies thereof, with the view to form a battalion. 
Immediately after two companies had been or- 
ganized by the election of officers, the authority 



314 THE STORY OF A CANNONEER 

for making three companies was revoked, and 
an order issued to form one company only, and 
giving to all the men not embraced in this one 
company the privilege of selecting a company 
in any branch of the service. A large number 
of men, thus temporarily connected with the 
Rockbridge Artillery, availed themselves of 
this privilege whose names do not appear on 
the above roll. It would now be impossible to 
make up this list. 



RECAPITULATION 

Enrolled as above, three hundred and ^ve 
(305). 

Number from Rockbridge County, one hun- 
dred and seventy-three (173). 

Killed in battle, twenty-three (23). 

Died of disease contracted in service, sixteen 
(16). 

Wounded more or less severely, forty-nine 
(49). 

Slightly wounded, names not given, about 
fifty (50). 

Discharged from service for disability in- 
curred therein, ten (10). 

Took the oath of allegiance to Federal Gov- 
ernment while in prison, two (2). 

Deserted, five (5). 

Promoted to be commissioned officers, thirty- 
nine (39). 

Paroled at Appomattox, ninety-three (93). 



UNDER STONEWALL JACKSON 315 

So great was the loss of horses, there having 
been over a hundred in this battery killed in bat- 
tle, that during the last year of the war they 
were unhitched from the guns after going into 
action and taken to the rear for safety. 



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